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tampered2007-09-22 10:53 pm
repairedbywebs.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-09-22 10:53 pm
Log; ongoing
When; September 22nd, 9pm
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Brocklehurst![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
razrsharp and mystery!boy repairedbywebs
Summary; Brocklehurst needs to stop following strange boys home.
Log;
He was heading home; but even before then, even when he had been having a conversation at the fountain he had known that he was being watched and followed. It was something he was used to. His shoes hit the pavement, the flat broad heels clicking, drowning out the sound of the other man's shoes, even as the larger blonde used a lighter tread. He pulled on his tailored coat, inky black with just a hint of a pinstripe, and buttoned it with long fingers.
Step into my parlor...
Halfway back, somewhere between building six and seven, he stopped. His instincts were impeccable; his reactions perfect. He waited and finally turned, his eyes adjusting quickly to the dim light. "Do you follow every cute boy home, or am I just lucky?" he asked his timbre deep, his accent sharp and distinct. The words had their own flavor when he let go of the American accent, a lower pitch which, while unnecessary, made him oddly pleased.
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Brocklehurst
razrsharp and mystery!boy repairedbywebsSummary; Brocklehurst needs to stop following strange boys home.
Log;
He was heading home; but even before then, even when he had been having a conversation at the fountain he had known that he was being watched and followed. It was something he was used to. His shoes hit the pavement, the flat broad heels clicking, drowning out the sound of the other man's shoes, even as the larger blonde used a lighter tread. He pulled on his tailored coat, inky black with just a hint of a pinstripe, and buttoned it with long fingers.
Step into my parlor...
Halfway back, somewhere between building six and seven, he stopped. His instincts were impeccable; his reactions perfect. He waited and finally turned, his eyes adjusting quickly to the dim light. "Do you follow every cute boy home, or am I just lucky?" he asked his timbre deep, his accent sharp and distinct. The words had their own flavor when he let go of the American accent, a lower pitch which, while unnecessary, made him oddly pleased.