Joe Homberg, Lance AlversSummary:
Post-arson, Joe contemplates his actions.Warnings:
IPPrivate, unless you have good reason to be there.
He felt unclean. He could still smell the smoke, knew that it clung to his clothes, even after he walked around until morning. He'd gone into a bathroom, splashed water in his face, but part of him swore there was still soot somewhere, ash in his hair. But no one gave him a second look when he entered the cafe. One large coffee in his hands, he'd made his way back to the apartment, feet knowing the way even as his mind continued to wander. He didn't remember opening the door, but he remembered locking it, tossing the keys on the table and then sitting down.( The first sip still burned his tongue.Collapse )