Lunch, Wednesday Lunchtime

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

You know, running around hopped up on eco all weekend really took a lot out of your energy reserves. Like, a real lot. Like, 'still scoffing away insane amounts of food on Wednesday' lots. Jak's plate was piled full enough to nearly achieve Tower of Babel status, and he was eying it with a kind of relaxed determination.

This was going to be awesome. Even if half the food the cafetaria served was, uh. Well.

There had to be some kind of animal in this world that tasted like that, right?

[[ open as lunch is ]]

Comments

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

Jak squinted at him and mouthed the word 'beau' with a questioning look on his way. Seriously, what?

[lovemykilt]

"Beau. Boy. Boyfriend."

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

Oh.

Oh.

Uh. He'd like to be? They hadn't talked about it? You know, if she was up to it. Uh.

Jak, there is only so much you can communicate by rubbing the back of your neck.

[lovemykilt]

Priestly's eyes narrowed again. He wanted to like and trust Jak, he really did. And he totally got the "I dunno if we're like that like that" thing. But it was just so easy to misinterpret those little gestures.

"That better be a 'we're not official' neck rub, and not a 'I'm totally just leading her on' neck rub."

[unborn-renegade.livejournal.com]

... Yeah. Jak pointed at him. That first one. That last one just made his face scrunge up into the international expression known as 'WTF'.

[lovemykilt]

"Dude, like I said. Gestures are reeeeeal easy to misinterpret."