<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/C9Ew7MS.jpg)</div><strong>Character:</strong>Marc Morales (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=324741.msg15581723#msg15581723)<br/><strong>Date and Time:</strong>Monday, July 20th, 10:00am<br/><strong>Where:</strong>Helene's cafe<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Ramon<br/><strong>Open/Close:</strong>Ask first?<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>A plain, soft green tee (https://www.bellacanvas.com/bella/product/large/300100081_3.jpg); dark wash jeans; sneakers; and an analog wristwatch<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Minor homophobic term<br/><br/>It had gone...decent. Better than expected.<br/><br/>Marc was still convinced he should have thought harder about the venue. Scorching liquids were nothing to play around with, or forks, for that matter, but he suspected the Parisian-styled cafe catered best to Ramon's taste. Marc sat on the side of the room as if he were his own island, his back turned to the wall. An iced tea sweated in its plastic cup on the table. He had hardly touched it. His attention shifted between the door and the people scattered around him--nine, to be exact, enough to hopefully set a mind at ease, if it was needed. It would be understandable. The last time they interacted in a substantial manner, Marc hadn't exactly been genuine.<br/><br/>But this time was different. This time he lacked that particular chip on his shoulder. He even wore one of the two brightest shirts he owned, a break from the darker neutrals he favored as of late. He felt like the ass end of a lightning bug, but if it made him look more approachable, so be it.<br/><br/>He checked his watch again. It was ten o'clock. Time to see if Ramon would be punctual or run a power play. Softly, Marc cleared his throat, the only other sign that could expose his nerves. He sipped on the iced tea before going back to being a real zen master, with his bare forearms resting on the cool surface of the table. The cigarette from over ten minutes ago had helped mellow him.<br/><br/>He'd wait for as long as it took.<br/><br/>The next time the door opened, it was like he was riding a Slinky, his eyes picking up on the familiar face before conscious thought kicked in, falling on him like a sack of potatoes. He had to remind himself to breathe. The slow exhale took with it some of the tension in his chest. He tried a smile, just a little one, made easy when he realized how foolish he was acting. He had faced down a barrel of a gun a couple weeks ago, yet he was getting anxious meeting a fairy.<br/><br/>One who was also a hotshot lawyer.<br/><br/>At least he had been able to compose himself. Marc studied the appearance of the man he had once considered a friend, watched for as long as it took him to finally walk over. When their eyes inevitably met, he'd hold it for as long as Ramon did. A little humor seeped in again. It offered another smile on a silver platter. That was good. Forcing them had never worked for him, and it had worsened with age.<br/><br/>When Ramon approached, Marc stood, hand outstretched for the greeting. "<em>Hola</em>," he said, pronouncing the H, as promised."Thanks for agreeing to meet. It's been a while. I see the last twenty years have treated you well."