Boardwalk [OPEN]
Sep. 14th, 2014 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nealdouglas"Hey Scumbag, this is your father speaking. So, it's half eleven and your two hours late so I'm taking it your not coming. Your sudden silence is duly appreciated, I love talking to your answer machine. It's the best way to communicate... so stay hydrated and don't forget if your going to play in the rain- wear a raincoat. Oh, now you're talking to me... I am not embarrassing." Walking along the boardwalk, Neal cradled the phone to his ear holding up a hand as he pointed and ordered a familiar Siren Cove delicacy. Sliding a couple couple of bills out of his wallet, he offered them before taking the cone of fried pickles along with him. "Do you have a girl there? Do you have a boy? You know you can tell me I love you no matter which way you want to swim in the stream. Yes, that was an awful salmon analogy I know."
Neal leaned against the railing, staring out at the water and making a face as he chewed on the crisp end of a fried pickle. Glancing down he half expected his kid to be there, looking up at him with those big, sad eyes. Reaching out he let his hand fall away at the memory of fine hair between his fingertips, his kid looked like his mother which was a blessing to him. He didn't think he'd ever twigged or ever realised why he ever took such an interest in his mother's affairs or more importantly in his.
"What? Oh, no just thinking. I do, do that occasionally you know. So, do you want to meet for lunch later this week?" Neal waited for his son's negative reply, one of the only good things he's ever done in this world and half the time he was sure Killian didn't want to be seen with him. He could hardly blame him, his mother was a smart and sensible woman unlike his dad- unlike Neal. One kid who didn't care if he existed and the other one who didn't know he existed. "No, I get it. You're busy. Okay, okay... so I'll see you soon. Yeah... love you... kiddo. And he hung up. Great."
Crunching on the pickles he sighed and brushed his fingertips against the railing, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. How'd he manage to fuck up his life this much that his kid didn't even want to spend time with him on a Sunday?
"Fuck," Neal swore, looking at his pickles. Who the hell was he going to share these with now?
[OOC: Catch Neal out on the boardwalk or heading back towards town.]
Neal leaned against the railing, staring out at the water and making a face as he chewed on the crisp end of a fried pickle. Glancing down he half expected his kid to be there, looking up at him with those big, sad eyes. Reaching out he let his hand fall away at the memory of fine hair between his fingertips, his kid looked like his mother which was a blessing to him. He didn't think he'd ever twigged or ever realised why he ever took such an interest in his mother's affairs or more importantly in his.
"What? Oh, no just thinking. I do, do that occasionally you know. So, do you want to meet for lunch later this week?" Neal waited for his son's negative reply, one of the only good things he's ever done in this world and half the time he was sure Killian didn't want to be seen with him. He could hardly blame him, his mother was a smart and sensible woman unlike his dad- unlike Neal. One kid who didn't care if he existed and the other one who didn't know he existed. "No, I get it. You're busy. Okay, okay... so I'll see you soon. Yeah... love you... kiddo. And he hung up. Great."
Crunching on the pickles he sighed and brushed his fingertips against the railing, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. How'd he manage to fuck up his life this much that his kid didn't even want to spend time with him on a Sunday?
"Fuck," Neal swore, looking at his pickles. Who the hell was he going to share these with now?
[OOC: Catch Neal out on the boardwalk or heading back towards town.]