[ Mickey's not sure whether he feels better or worse that Ian doesn't remember. On the one hand, it means it wasn't just his fuckup. On the other, he really can't explain how he could've gotten here if not with Ian, and by all rights that shouldn't have been possible.
His line of thought is interrupted by a maid sweeping in to retrieve the dropped pastry and drop it into a small trash bag, which earns a scowl. ]
Hey, five-second rule! Wasteful motherfuckers.
[ He grudgingly nudges one of his own pastries toward Ian's plate by way of apology. What for, he's not sure -- no one told Ian to be so goddamn jumpy -- but he'd been enjoying Ian's reaction to the food before he'd turned up to ruin it. ]
So uh... this is awkward, but I gotta know. What's the last thing you do remember? Because I'm pretty sure my amnesia or whatever has skipped over a lot, like how the fuck I am back in the country.
[ This is the US, right? Actually, there's no proof of that. They could've somehow gotten to England or some shit. How, he's got no idea, but it's at least as likely as being in somewhere as ritzy as this in the first place. ]
he'd be a disaster here but yolo
His line of thought is interrupted by a maid sweeping in to retrieve the dropped pastry and drop it into a small trash bag, which earns a scowl. ]
Hey, five-second rule! Wasteful motherfuckers.
[ He grudgingly nudges one of his own pastries toward Ian's plate by way of apology. What for, he's not sure -- no one told Ian to be so goddamn jumpy -- but he'd been enjoying Ian's reaction to the food before he'd turned up to ruin it. ]
So uh... this is awkward, but I gotta know. What's the last thing you do remember? Because I'm pretty sure my amnesia or whatever has skipped over a lot, like how the fuck I am back in the country.
[ This is the US, right? Actually, there's no proof of that. They could've somehow gotten to England or some shit. How, he's got no idea, but it's at least as likely as being in somewhere as ritzy as this in the first place. ]