[color= #01DF00]✁✃✁—=𝄂𝄄 p e r f e c t 𝄄𝄃=—✁✃✁[/color]
[color= #8ACD00]▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄[/color]
Still lightheaded from yesterday’s event, either from the drinking or stumbling on something while drinking, Marco was still focused on the one thing that kept him going: his work. As he peeked from the drapery and looked at the weather for today, he decided on something warm enough to suit the weather while showing something, as the weather isn’t as harsh as it is in other states. As is usual in his morning routine, he looked into his closet, did his makeup, ate something light, and grabbed all his papers as he went on to his work.
Life in the boutique seemed lively enough, with a few people willing to pay and a good number of clients added to his ledgers. The crew was bustling with suggestions and notifications from who bought what, all while the big man in the dark corner plans on outfits from his highest clients as he called each fashion house for any archival pieces they’ll allow to use. His eyes felt heavy as the lower lid eyeliner matched his grogginess, making him feel as though he needed some refreshments to move on. Calling his assistant, he requested coffee until his phone rang to bear bad news: [color= #01DF00]“She’s not here? Her hamster died. Funeral?”[/color] His words were calm yet tired, understanding her assistant’s reason yet disappointed she had not called him the morning earlier. [color= #01DF00]“Fine, fine. But do give her a warning to remind me next time; she knows I don’t like surprises. No, I’ll just do it myself; it’s good for me.”[/color] And with his work still scattered on the drawing board, he decided to take a walk to cool off his head and get that necessary exercise.
The coffee shop was just as busy as it was in the boutique, maybe more with the majority of the public needing caffeine than designer clothes. Naturally, as he strode in to get his coffee, he decided to look upon the crowd, as he would see the regulars and some students that occupied the place. He noticed a face familiar to him—perhaps a magazine? But with little time and a reminder from a cashier, he ordered a cortado and a simple bread roll. Grabbing the order he had made, Marco expected this visit to be an in-and-out situation but was met with the man he had seen earlier. Oh, so I do know him, the magazine bodyguard. With the playful tone on the man who’s seen brooding, Marco’s eyes slightly widen with surprise and intrigue. Something wondered in him what this conversation could take, and with a playful roll in his eyes, he stared at his eyes fiercely. [color= #01DF00]“What an awful thing to say, and I thought men in black are supposed to protect people instead of harming 'em. I am but a delicate law-abiding citizen, after all.”[/color]
[color= #01DF00]“What is it with pretty men being bombarded by so many people? If only… I had someone to sit with me through all this predicament.”[/color] Marco’s eyes looked to the side as he saw a nice seat for two, signaling for both to sit down and relax for a good while. As he took his first sip of coffee, he looked at Ezra as he played around the rim of his cup with ease, teasing him as he took pleasure in meeting new people. [color= #01DF00]"You know, I’ve always been in great company with bodyguards; they sweep them off their feet whenever one finds their client in danger. I don’t need to be quite coy to say this, but it seems like interest in you has been rising for quite a while; I’d have expected that I would be the one to run over you and start the conversation, but I digress.”[/color]
Marco wanted to question his reason for approaching him, but as he formed a sentence, he couldn’t recall his name as he realized he hadn’t even asked for his name at all. Playing a shocked face, Marco covered his mouth as he stopped and introduced himself with a call card in his hand. [color= #01DF00]“My goodness, where’s my manners? Marco Manzo, stylist.”[/color] With his profession, Marco looked up and down at him as he took a closer look at him. Impressive, and I thought bodyguards never had a sense of style. His grin touched cheek to cheek as he felt happy to see such a visual pleasure that he hadn’t seen in the past few days, especially when he had met men who couldn’t care to know if their outfit clashed with their event. With his inspection, Marco continued on, [color= #01DF00]“And can I say, you have a style that encompasses both danger and sophistication? Unless, of course, you have an abysmal level of taste, I fear I don’t quite understand why you’d come near me. Apparently, my presence alone gives a magnet to men who don’t quite understand fashion and style so well.”[/color] He had stopped to think that maybe he’d been too harsh on the others, as he’d been with fashionable people as with his lifestyle throughout his life, and with the thought, he doubled down and simply gave props to Ezra, [color= #01DF00]“But I guess I am satisfied that I’m gifted by a man as gallant as you are. It makes me want a bratwurst real bad. Do you think they serve lunch here?”[/color]
[color= #8ACD00]▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄[/color]
[color= #8ACD00]@eunoia | Ezra (hope this fine too ehehe)[/color]