“I was hoping you’d say that,” he tells her as the pair of them push away from the shadow of the ferris wheel, leaving the twinkling lights and rhythmic whirring of the machine behind. [break][break]

Angelo walks beside Stormy as they make their way towards the bar that she’d seen, arms occasionally brushing against one another as the crowds keep them close. He doesn’t mind, used to their occasional arm locks or pats on the shoulders they shared; although his hands remain tucked in the confines of his jacket pockets. At least it means he can hear her over the activity of the festival, bubbling with excitement of the civilians and the occasional loud burst of music as they pass by a speaker. [break][break]

“Whatever’s cheapest,” the words come out of his lips automatically, although with good humour laced in. It’s as much the truth as it is a joke, although he doesn’t specify to Stormy which one. “But I don’t mind trying anything. I'm not picky.”[break][break]

They come up to the bar then, beach themed and looking like a run-down shack. It’s hard to tell whether it’s an intentional design choice or it just doesn’t see much use. Angelo hops up on a stool that runs along the length of the bar, blinking at all the colourful umbrellas and mixers that span the arrangement of the rainbow along the backwall. Lost. He only knows some vague cocktail names and so, barstool being the type that spins, he rotates towards Stormy with a hand cupping near his lips – like he’s whispering a secret. [break][break]

“Ok, so I admit I don’t know the next thing about this kind of stuff, Storms… Choose for me?”


[break][break]

+ Stormy Silph

Who comes up with these names? [break][break]

“To be fair, if you get one then you kind of have to get the other. Kind of a package deal.” Angelo smiles back at her when Stormy throws him a wink, mouth curled at the corners in his amusement; it’s not hard to imagine that her choice of cocktail combination is most likely intentional, just for laughs. With names like that, who could blame her? [break][break]

There’s a tiny umbrella, pink with misprinted tropical flowers on the paper, sticking out of his drink when it arrives. Angelo pulls it out of the lime green liquid, dragging the droplets off the stick between his lips before casually resting it behind his ear. [break][break]

There’s a distinct taste of rum punching through the softer mixers when he takes a generous sip, not bothering with the straw. “Really triggers sandy memories,” he muses with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, poking gently at the name this particular drink had been blessed with. “It's not bad! The drink, I mean.” This is probably a little more refreshing than sand in a crack, though. [break][break]

“So,” turning on his stool to face her, Angelo reaches a long leg out, sole of his trainer pushing playfully against Stormy’s own chair – making it turn an inch or two around, then back again. “What got you messaging me out of the blue? Not like I'm complaining, it's been a while.”



[break][break]

+ Stormy Silph

Stormy’s laugh triggers his own, a genuine chuckle laughed against the rim of his bioluminescent green drink. It only proves to turn into a louder laugh when the Silph almost slips off her chair, Angelo’s hand instinctively reaching out to touch her arm so he could catch a potential, premature trip. “It’s too early to start falling over, Storms.” He teases, pulling his fingers back to pick the straw out of his glass and flick it onto the bar; his umbrella accessory staying in place. [break][break]

“Crunchy. Probably won’t get the taste of it out of my mouth for days. But worth it.” His drink does taste surprisingly nice; although when he places it on the counter and takes a peek at the special menu, his expression wrinkles at the corners in distaste for a brief flicker. That price tag for such a small glass should be fucking illegal. [break][break]

When he turns back, Angelo’s gaze falls upon an openly soft expression, Stormy honestly expressing her feelings as to why she had decided to contact him. He retains his smile but it’s a little more of a conscious effort this time, a bittersweet pang materialising within. ‘I missed you’ is a conflicting sentiment to mull over.[break][break]

“Well, I’m happy you did. It’s been ages. I was actually thinking of calling you to hang out the other day. I had to wear my bandana near the desert on a delivery and it still smells like Weezing. Reminded me of you.” Blue eyes twinkle mischievously at the playful jab. “So good timing.” [break][break]

Then her leg kicks against. Angelo pulls his foot away from her stool but not without throwing a playful smirk her way, as if to say this wasn’t over. [break][break]

“We've both been busy then. But you doing good?” He asks after her, curious.


[break][break]

+ Stormy Silph

Angelo doesn’t know the next thing about fashion but he does know that Stormy pulls off the cheap, paper umbrella look better than he ever could. She strikes a couple of poses and he smiles at the sight, finding the goofiness of pouty lips and brunette hair spilling over her shoulder endearing. [break][break]

“Could be onto something. Wear it to your next press conference, people will jump onto anything they think is a trend, right? We might have a business opportunity in our hands.” [break][break]

It comes loose then, Stormy’s umbrella, becoming entangled within strands of dark. Angelo watches as she half-heartedly searches for it before giving up, his lips pulling higher in their lopsided smile as her fumbling falls short by a mere inch. He doesn’t give her any hints as to where it had disappeared to. [break][break]

“And I didn’t accept so we can talk about me,” Angelo counters back as Stormy brushes off his asking after her, not sounding like he minded. He doesn’t really want to delve too deeply into how he was doing, either; so he doesn't chase her for answers. “Besides, there’s not much to tell. Just been working, travelling around, same ol’ same.” Some things had changed since he'd last seen the elite but the courier doesn't think that it's something that warranted being brought up. [break][break]

“I don't think you want me to bore you to death about delivery boy woes.” He reaches out, without too much thought, to pick the umbrella cocktail stick out of her hair - he keeps it when he leans back, twirling it between thumb and index finger. “I'd rather talk about what we're going to do. See any rides or games on the way you want to try?”

[break][break]

+ Stormy Silph

“Glowing? You sure I just haven’t caught the sun or something? I am outside all day.” He smiles at her pouting expression, amused. It’s a little scary how almost-accurate Stormy is, though – was he really that easy to read? [break][break]

“Mm... Nope. Can't think of any cute girls on my route – not like you’ll believe me. Maybe I should get a new route.” skyler dross is definitely not what he’d describe as 'a cute girl'. But Angelo likes that she's not; she's too hot for that label. [break][break]

Stormy's choice of ride brings a sparkle to his eyes, clearly taken by her idea. “Always. Hope you don’t get motion sickness.” Lips curled, it’s clear that Angelo has every intention on rocking the boat, per say. It’s just not the same if you have to sit quietly in the slowly rotating seats, not when they’re designed to swing until your feet threatened to kick out towards the moon. [break][break]

“Finish your drink and we’ll head out. Three, two, one…” Cocktails probably aren’t meant to be downed but Angelo does it anyway, luminous green vanishing down his throat. Somehow the cocktail umbrella stays nice and secure behind his ear. [break][break]

“Fine. As my new best friend, I’ll tell you all about the Lava Cookie incident with Mrs Anderson on the way…” He stands, remembering his umbrella when he feels it shift from the movement. Angelo transfers it from behind his ear to being tucked behind Stormy's - just like he thought, it looks better on her. There's a smile on his face as he admires the contrast of bright pink to brunette waves. [break][break]

“Do you think I look like the nefarious kind of guy who’d eat an elderly lady’s delivery? And then be stupid enough to leave the evidence on the doorstep?”


[break][break]

+ Stormy Silph

“Damn, can’t you let a guy pick the right moment to give you a compliment?” [break][break]

Stormy’s hand is strikingly warm in his – warmer even than the drink in his stomach – her fingers small and almost dainty. Yet she still manages to pull him from his seat, yanking him from the bar and back into the crowds with determined intent. Angelo wouldn’t have dreamed of delaying their trip to the stars, anyway. [break][break]

His grip unconsciously tightens as she lets out a curt retaliation to his cookie story, laughter bubbling as she impatiently takes the lead. [break][break]

“The ferris wheel isn’t going anywhere, Storms. But I might if you keep being a dick.”[break][break]

He purposefully strides ahead, making use of his longer legs to rush them towards the ride that glitters with hundreds of colourful lights – flashing Stormy a devlish grin over his shoulder. He didn’t want to dawdle, after all. [break][break]

Thankfully the line to get onto the ride is fairly short and before long, Angelo and Stormy are bundled into one of the carriages, locked in place as decades old music plays in the background. Barely covering up the creaking of the mechanical parts as their seat shudders forwards. [break][break]

“Maybe we won't need to pretend to fly,” Angelo comments after a particularly aching groan of metal, peering over at his companion with a smile that looks the opposite of concerned. Hopeful, maybe.

[break][break]

+ Stormy Silph