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 Posted: Sun Sep 09, 2007 5:01 pm
The thump of something fleshy connecting with a less yielding surface cut his unhappy noise short, annoyance creeping between his organs as he wondered what idiot from his wait staff would come in at such an hour... whatever that hour happened to be. Such contemplation was suffocated by new dilemmas when he heard a very unacceptable nickname creep up into his bed sheets, the other's voice now so familiar that Constantine was able to perfectly envision the brain dead canine without even removing the cloth from his eyes. Who in their right mind and on their soon-to-be-unemployed hindquarters had permitted the cause of so many problems into his room? He had been very specific when he'd given orders to his subordinates as to Wyatt's placement in the house, somewhere in the western wing where the dog would have a hard time making it back to his own chambers.
Not too difficult a time, apparently... The seme thought with a sigh, moving a lethargic hand to pluck the wet rag from his face before shooting an exasperated glance around the room.
Only Wyatt wasn't there, slender frame displacing no volume of darkness next to the bureau or his work desk or even taking up the thin trail of light that came from the ajar bathroom door. Constantine frowned and sat up, planting his feet on the floor and rising a little unsteadily before giving his space a more thorough examination. Again, the irritating uke failed to jump out of some shadow to glomp him indecently, and the businessman began to wonder if he hadn't imagined the embarrassing mangle of words the other typically made of his name.
His ears stood alert for noise, tail giving the barest flick of uncertainty while he adapted an authoritative tone of voice. "Wyatt. Where are you?"
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Posted: Sun Sep 09, 2007 5:26 pm
Canine ears immediately perked when he heard the male's voice, and Wyatt was instantly on his feet - or rather, he attempted to get onto his feet... but was instead greeted by a rather angry bed-frame of which actually caused his head pain, which was, in fact, a foreign feeling - and the thin uke yelped in disapproval, crawling away from the thing as hastily as Wyattly-Possible.
His azure orbs watched Connie intently, nails digging into the carpet with displeasure. "Where'dyereyesgo?" he whimpered, certain that the inquiry was incoherent. He frowned, "Conniewasalllike-boooo..." his sienna-colored tail flicked behind his figure silently as he clawed at Constantine's pant-leg miserably.
It was obvious that he needed to pay more attention, because the other canines eyes were, indeed, still in their sockets. He pulled his arm away from the other male cautiously, recalling disappointedly that the other didn't like to be touched. His tail curled around himself protectively, though doubtfully.
He was uncertain how to go about this - should he just inform Constantine of his earlier viewing of the other's eyes... or rather, lack of them?
An immediate, forced smile when he realized that instead of thinking of such a thing he should be happy that the other still possessed his pretty, golden eyes (force of such a smile due to lack of understanding of the entire situation), and Wyatt felt a tint at ease.
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