Name: Alexander Heartnell
Age: 22
Picture:

Name: Cinnabar Rosalind
Age: Eighteen
Looks:

(You wanna start or am I?)

((Check my thread. :3 Last reply.))

(-_- Grr, you. Fiiine.)

Alexander drives carefully, scowling into the rain. He abhors driving in the rain. He sighs, when he sees a form on the corner. He'd known there were prostitutes around here, but he still found it saddening. To need to reduce yourself to selling yourself for money... He gets closer to the form and sees it's a boy, younger than himself. His frown deepens as he sees someone come towards the boy. He pulls his car up in front of the boy before the other person can reach him. He opens the door. "Get in," he says. His voice is quiet and gentle.

The boy didn't take his eyes off the ground. He looked...emotionless. "You have to pay first," he muttered, arms wrapped around himself. He was cold and shaking slightly. He'd been out in the rain for the past two hours, and he'd had five different customers.

Alexander absently reaches for his wallet, pulling out a fifty dollar bill. One good thing about being the only surgeon in the nearest hospital, since the other one got fired. "Is that enough?" He's quite saddened by this boy. He turns the heat on high, hoping it'll reach him until he gets in. He watches the boy's face as he holds the money out.

The boy stared at the money like it was his own life being dangled in front of him. Then, he nodded and gingerly hopped into the offered seat, taking the money slowly. He closed the door and simply sat there, rubbing his arms to try and get warm. He didn't say a word.

Alexander pulls out again, fiddling with the windshield wipers. "Just so you know, I'm not having sex with you, you're staying with me. At least for the night. I assume you'd like a decent meal?" he keeps his eyes on the road and his voice calm. He sighs as a car cuts him off, wondering why rain makes people worse drivers.

( :D People should have to take their driving test in the rain! That'd be funny!)

The boy looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and suspicion in his eyes before staring out the window again. He didn't answer him. Obviously, he still thought of him as a customer, and he didn't speak out of turn when dealing with a customer.

Alexander glances at him as he pulls to a stop light. "I;m not a customer, I only gave you that money because I felt it was the only way to get you in the car. Was I right?" He pauses. "Also, I don't know what other people expected from you, but you can talk out of turn with me." He starts driving again when the light turns green.

The boy still said nothing. Simple lies...lies, lies, lies. That was all that he was ever told. Lies and more lies. Sure, he said that now. But he bet this man was just another customer...same old.

Alexander sighs as he comes to a fairly decent sized Victorian style home. "Will you at least tell me your name, so I have something to call you? I'm Alexander." He turns the car off as he speaks then slowly gets out. He fiddles with his keys, waiting for the boy to get out.

"Cinnabar." The boy's voice shook less as he spoke, but more as he stepped out of the car, back into the rain once more. He looked tired and sick.

Alexander makes a run for the door, making sure to keep an eye on Cinnabar. He unlocks the door quickly. Once inside, he looks at Cinnabar again. "I believe my ex left clothes here, and he's about your size. Let's go see." He heads up the stairs to his room, which is all white, almost like a hospital room.

Cinnabar prepared for the usual punishment that came from liars, people who tried to con him into his comfort zone and then take advantage of him. He kept his eyes focused on a single point in the distance.

Alexander goes into his closet and digs in it. "Ah-ha." He mutters this, while pulling out a white button down shirt and black jeans. They look like they might be a tad big on Cinnabar, but not baggy. He also finds a belt. He hands Cinnabar the clothes and goes to leave the room. "I'm going to go start dinner. Is there anything specific you'd like?" he asks quietly.

Cinnabar shook his head, staring at the offered clothes. Did he have a fetish or something for forcing others to wear his ex's clothes?

Alexander heads downstairs to make something to eat, just deciding to wing it. He hums to himself as he makes eggs, only making them because they're quick and easy. He glances towards the door every once and a while, waiting for Cinnabar.

Cinnabar had slipped into the offered clothes, glad to be mostly dry again, and was seated on the bed, waiting for the inevitable. He had his arms curled around himself, to keep warm. He felt like he was ill.

Alexander finishes making the eggs and goes back up to check on Cinnabar. He knocks on the door. "Ready to eat?" He pokes his head in the room. "If not, I can put it in the fridge and you can eat later."

Cinnabar was rubbing his arms. The long-sleeved shirt had covered his arms before, but it was clear now why he had been selling himself. Needle marks...all over the place. "I..."

Alexander stares at the needle marks and raises an eyebrow. He doesn't comment on them, however. "Which do you want more, food or sleep?" His eyes look genuinely concerned. He leans against the door frame.

Cinnabar's stomach grumbled fiercely before could speak. Feeling it was self-explanatory, he stared at his feet, still rubbing his arms self-consciously.

Alexander chuckles. He then digs in his closet for a moment and pulls out a gray hoodie. He hands it to Cinnabar and heads back down stairs. Once down there, he starts dishing out the food, humming under his breath as he does so.