1900 hours, time for a run. Autumn was setting in which meant daylight was becomming a scarce commodity. With an hour before sunset, Torch wanted to be sure his run was complete by the time it was dark outside. He would take a quick shower, and hit one of the many clubs the beach had to offer. The night life was great, and Torch loved it. For now though a run on the beach was what he needed.
Why the beach? First, he lived on it. Secondly, where there was sun, there were babes in bikinis. With the sun still out there was a view to be enjoyed, one which Torch enjoyed very much. One could say he was objectifying women, but they were doing the same to him. He did not miss the hungry looks some gave him as he ran past them in his white t-shirt and black track pants on his way to this turning point.
The little shack of a bar two miles from the beach house he called home was where Torch always grabbed a bottle of water. He would get the water, hydrate, and run back. He did his best to drink before he was thirsty, as waiting until he was meant it was too late. Usually he would keep running, but tonight he noticed something a bit peculiar. A very pretty, and very familiar, brunette was sitting alone with a bottle of Whyrens and glasses for two. The problem was only one glass had something in it, and the chair across from her was empty.
Had she been stood up? The brunette was seriously too gorgeous for that. Seriously who would do such a thing. It was a shame. Why Torch would just hop right on over and be a gentleman. The kind that consoled pretty women who had just been had a by a jerk.
"This seat taken," he asked as he proceeded to sit down anyway. "Seriously, a no show?"
Why the beach? First, he lived on it. Secondly, where there was sun, there were babes in bikinis. With the sun still out there was a view to be enjoyed, one which Torch enjoyed very much. One could say he was objectifying women, but they were doing the same to him. He did not miss the hungry looks some gave him as he ran past them in his white t-shirt and black track pants on his way to this turning point.
The little shack of a bar two miles from the beach house he called home was where Torch always grabbed a bottle of water. He would get the water, hydrate, and run back. He did his best to drink before he was thirsty, as waiting until he was meant it was too late. Usually he would keep running, but tonight he noticed something a bit peculiar. A very pretty, and very familiar, brunette was sitting alone with a bottle of Whyrens and glasses for two. The problem was only one glass had something in it, and the chair across from her was empty.
Had she been stood up? The brunette was seriously too gorgeous for that. Seriously who would do such a thing. It was a shame. Why Torch would just hop right on over and be a gentleman. The kind that consoled pretty women who had just been had a by a jerk.
"This seat taken," he asked as he proceeded to sit down anyway. "Seriously, a no show?"
Comment