MHA #4, Friday 5 PM. EXACTLY.

Stark had spent the day keeping busy. Not like that. He'd gone for a walk which had turned into a jog and then back into a walk. He'd gone to the store for the items requested yesterday. He'd gone for another walk. He'd taken a very, very long time getting ready to come down here. He'd showered, he'd considered shaving and decided against it eventually. He'd taken care to buff his mask and the buckles on it. He'd tried on and rejected several shirts to go with the requested blue suit. And finally, finally, he'd waited long enough and it was time to go downstairs.

He thought he looked good. He had flowers, chocolate, and a bottle of whiskey in hand. He'd waited until just before 5 to go down the stairs and now he was knocking on Summer's door feeling oddly nervous about it, and not just because he was awkwardly juggling all the things in his hands to have the ability to knock. This felt different. Maybe because it was this week, or the end of this week, or because he'd spent the better part of two days now not actively participating in this week, or maybe because there had been something of a shift in his worldview over those same days. Whatever the reason, or reasons, he was feeling jittery as he waited for a response.


[for she who lives in the apartment and posted early for drugged up probable SP and because I can't sleep]