“Yeah, if you wanna be some boring asshat and take the normal road,” She said while simultaneously waving her joint around in the air, not bothered by the hypocrisy of it all because Darlene found herself to be anything but a boring asshat, “then go ahead. The joint in there is yours. I was just giving the kid some options, Jesus Christ, Elliot. I’m trying to be a good host.”
Yes. Darlene was attempting to be a good host in a house that wasn’t hers. But that was just Darlene, wasn’t it? She tended to take ownership over whatever place that her body currently occupied and in that moment it was Elliot’s apartment.
Once more she leaned over in her chair to reach the table a short distance away, tossing what little was left of the end of her joint into the ashtray before scooping up a generous amount of the cocaine onto her index finger, and then immediately rubbing it along her top gum line — her entire mouth beginning to tingle in a way that sent a shiver through her body. Her movements already feeling lazy and slowed thanks to the weed that she’d burned through in what could have been considered record time, and she knew that the newly added stimulant would make for a kind of concoction that she was craving at the moment. A paradox that would have her heart and body racing at top speed, but her mind steps behind trying to catch up.
“Whatever, they’re all shit movies. Where are they?” In one fluid motion, she pushed herself up out of the chair, hands poised on her hips as her head turned on a swivel to glance around the apartment — as though the movies would have had some kind of neon sign above them that indicated their location.
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Yes. Darlene was attempting to be a good host in a house that wasn’t hers. But that was just Darlene, wasn’t it? She tended to take ownership over whatever place that her body currently occupied and in that moment it was Elliot’s apartment.
Once more she leaned over in her chair to reach the table a short distance away, tossing what little was left of the end of her joint into the ashtray before scooping up a generous amount of the cocaine onto her index finger, and then immediately rubbing it along her top gum line — her entire mouth beginning to tingle in a way that sent a shiver through her body. Her movements already feeling lazy and slowed thanks to the weed that she’d burned through in what could have been considered record time, and she knew that the newly added stimulant would make for a kind of concoction that she was craving at the moment. A paradox that would have her heart and body racing at top speed, but her mind steps behind trying to catch up.
“Whatever, they’re all shit movies. Where are they?” In one fluid motion, she pushed herself up out of the chair, hands poised on her hips as her head turned on a swivel to glance around the apartment — as though the movies would have had some kind of neon sign above them that indicated their location.