Jayde listened to the sound of the shower as he smoked. Although the domestic nature of it felt foreign to him, he didn't mind it. He'd yet to move and felt little desire for it. A lot had built up in him--desire of course, but also the emotions that his life always brought him. Having a chance to sit and close his eyes, tobacco haze swirling around him, felt like such a comfort. Sometimes he missed the feel of nice beds like this. Shaking the thought away, he finished his cigarette and reached for his pants, tugging on the dark material with one hand. He said he might stay, but more often than not, he didn't. Sometimes he just left while Harlan was in the shower, not bothering to take one himself. He'd disappear into the darkness of the night with the mystery that only a pair of pleasure-seekers could manage. Only through this connection of the phone could he be reached.

Dragging a hand through his tousled hair, Jayde glanced in the small unframed mirror mounted by the bathroom door. Their activities had loosened his hair from the usual style and now it hung partially against his forehead, the longer middle hanging over the shaved sides. He would shower tonight because he needed to work still, so he left it be. His shirt lay against the arm of a chair so he collected it, neatly laying his socks over it as he dropped back onto the bed. It was a strange sign of order after the mess he'd flung the clothes down in, but he smoothed away his shirt's wrinkles nonetheless. He disliked the mess. He didn't care. Stirring the cigarette ash with a butt, he waited, idly wondering why he waited in the first place. This relationship, it was convenient. But for how much longer?