5th Floor CR, Saturday Night

[withoutverona]

The broom sweeping the floor around Romeo's feet wasn't so bad; it was silent, and no more distracting from his book than a maid at home would have been. (The fact it seemed to be powering itself was a bit distressing, but less so than talking shoes had been.)

But when a container of Lysol started hovering near his coffee-table-propped-feet, he really needed to jump up and protest. "They do not smell bad!" he informed the air, glaring.

It had been a very strange week.

Comments

[withoutverona]

"Mikey," Romeo repeated. "Though I grew up with a Mercutio, I could manage your full name."

He smiled slightly at the description of his workplace. "It is rather sparkly. But the owner's only a few inches tall, so she's careful to stock a range of sizes."

[halfshell-hero.livejournal.com]

"Oooooh, then I'm totally going to have to check it out, Romeo, dude. Maybe I can find a shirt that matches my shorts!"