The gathering storm is like a hand on the back of his neck pushing him down, humidity dialled up so high he's sweating by the time he gets to his car. It's not a long drive to Carmy's place but it's long enough for Richie to talk himself out of turning around at least ten times, between which he checks his phone at red lights (bad habit) and tries to hunt down the last of the breath mints in his glovebox.
It's not until he's parked up and heading up to Carmy's apartment that he remembers he should have stopped to get a bottle of wine or something. He curses, turns around on the stairs, goes back down, stops, turns around, curses some more, comes back up. Keeps going up. Pounds his fist on Carmy's door.
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The gathering storm is like a hand on the back of his neck pushing him down, humidity dialled up so high he's sweating by the time he gets to his car. It's not a long drive to Carmy's place but it's long enough for Richie to talk himself out of turning around at least ten times, between which he checks his phone at red lights (bad habit) and tries to hunt down the last of the breath mints in his glovebox.
It's not until he's parked up and heading up to Carmy's apartment that he remembers he should have stopped to get a bottle of wine or something. He curses, turns around on the stairs, goes back down, stops, turns around, curses some more, comes back up. Keeps going up. Pounds his fist on Carmy's door.