"Miss..." , "Miss Westwood".
Made closer to the counter and took the stool next
to me. Puntellò the palms on the edges, along its flanks, and waved his legs in the air as a little girl. I moved, I observe it turning the head only. "But I prefer to Kerys".
"Well, miss Westwood". She's not for me to invite more attention, he held out his hand to grab the glass that I had previously left on the counter, and brought it to his lips.
He smirked supporting again the beer. "But it's soft".
"I drink while I work," was my justification. If something, anything had gone wrong, I would have put the entire
career. Not I was still willing to throw my life to the wind.
"What a bore!" he muttered. Accavallò legs, making
up the skirt of a few centimeters.
Then, with your elbows still resting on the counter,
leaned over the torso to her to allow my lips closer to his ear. She remained still, his arms folded against his chest.
Around us, students were grouped in different corners of the room, chatting to each other, they held company. Across the hall was immersed in a globe of disregard, and to me seemed to be almost sucked in by that environment, with her so close.
"I remember that we're at a memorial, not exactly the event the best that sbronzarsi" I pointed out, moving away.
"And it is, doctor. And you know why?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because death is a great trauma and drinking can help to overcome it". It was obvious that she was not there to overcome bereavement, the tone is ironic in his voice made it clear his state of mind.
"In most cases, the alcohol only causes more deaths, in a variety of ways". She didn't seem to care to my words, but turned on the stool, and moves the look on the accumulation of people around. "And death is not so easy to beat."
"Of course she does not know exactly how to have fun," I punzecchiò, a note of challenge gleamed in the veins of his irises of the ocean when he watched me from the corner of the eye.
I was then forced to clear my head the
throat. "Believe me, miss Westwood" the called, pretending to ignore the discomfort that the stiffened shoulders uncovered. "I know how to have fun, but alcohol is always a chaperon and never the protagonist".
She, however, was interested in our
conversation the other half, because the two guys that were on the platform and began to speak. I
difficult to notice that his attention would be dedicated in particular to the boy the more athletic of
with hair and brown eyes. So I went silent to observe the scene. I felt coming from her, a sort
I never lost a single expression of disdain that he adorned the face.
On the contrary, she was speechless, the rest of the room burst out laughing in a general murmur. It seemed that all had been on the lips a comment too, but it's impossible to hold back.
"This year... for the football team will not be the same thing,"