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Summary
“Night, Ker.” A voice mocks in V’s head.
“Shut the fuck up.” V mutters, tapping the faux-nail of his cybernetic hand against his bottom lip. There’s no reply to the text he sent Kerry. No three dots. He listlessly scrolls up in the conversation, flings it back down to the bottom to refresh, and still, no new text. Fuck. V overstepped. He pushes his pillows down, gives them a few unnecessary punches before settling back in a huff in his bed.
“This how gonks flirt nowadays? That’s pathetic.” Johnny complains, “I told you. Kerry doesn’t go for that shit.”
“What? Selfies are…” V struggles to find the word. Romantic? Hardly. And the one he sent wasn’t sexy; he wasn’t working that mysterious angle, didn’t even pretend he was out and living it up to make himself look better. It was just him, his bed, and his own dumbass face staring back at him from his holo screen. V ends lamely with a, “fuck…”
“Send him your dick, bitch boy.” Johnny hoots.
Series
- Part 2 of Cover Songs