~ink and cigarettes~

CHAPTER TWO

As soon as Hobie wakes up the next morning, his suspicions of catching a cold were right. He felt like shit, his throat was sore and his nose was blocked, however, he still had to retrieve his keys from Miles' apartment, so he rolls out of bed and puled on a thick, baggy hoodie. His phone is still on his bedside table, so he picks it up and checks his notifications, the first one to catch his eye being from Miles saying

"morning hobbs! sorry I didn't reply last night, crashed as soon as I got home (*-*)" "come over whenever you want :D I made waffles, ill save some for you"

He smiled at how his mate was thinking of him so early and just likes the message, stuffing his phone in his joggers pocket.

As soon as he walks into the kitchen, Pav is watching him like a hawk. "You feeling alright, bro? you look a bit rough" His voice is soft, his head tilted as he looks Hobie up and down. It's true, He has massive bags under his eyes and his nose is tinted a deep red, his hair is a mess and the overall way he carries himself is groggy. Hobie appreciates his friend caring, but in all honesty, it was his fault he was now sick, so he waves Pav off. "yeah, mate, I'm fine. consequences of my own actions, I guess. I gotta head to Miles' soon to get my keys, though, do we have any Lemsip? my throats killin' me" He groans, sitting on the stool by the island in the kitchen as he watches Pav nod and search the medicine cabinet above the sink.

Half an hour later, Hobie was walking through the crowded streets, the weather is a little bit nicer, but since its November the air is crisp and he can see his breath when he exhales. The cold is dry and the sky is clear of clouds, so the cold cuts straight through the air. The puddles that had been left by the downpour yesterday have now iced over, and there aren't as many cars out, since the roads did seem a little dangerous but that doesn't stop Hobie from getting to Miles', its basically routine by now, wake up, say hello to Pav, have a cup of coffee and make his way to his best friend's.

He turns left and buries his hands into the leather jacket pockets, Hobie thinks maybe he should invest in some gloves and a scarf, especially when he's already got a cold and his neck is exposed, but he brushes it off at the site of Miles' apartment complex coming closer. Its much nicer than his own, the central heating actually works in the hallway and the walls aren't crumbling into brick dust, the windows never have to be wrapped to keep the cold out, it was overall just better, but he couldn't complain, because he and Pav make the dingy two room place work, and he wouldn't trade that for the world, even if it meant not being effortlessly warm.

When he reaches the heavy entrance door, he pulls out his phone and takes a picture of the top of his head, only his eyes and forehead showing, his eyebrows raised as high as he gets them. He send the photo, then instantly sends a message saying

"let me innnnn. I'm cold D:"

It only takes a few seconds before the message is marked as read and the door makes a small noise, letting Hobie know that its open. He pulls the door open, quickly scurrying inside and sighing at the heat, climbing the stairs to Miles' apartment.

The door is open when he gets there and he grins, letting himself in and taking off his shoes, waltzinhg into the living room and flopping onto the sofa, immediately wrapping himself in the home-made blanket Miles' mum had made for her son, but it was basically Hobie's, since he uses it every single time he's here. A low laugh from behind him almost startles Hobie, if he wasn't expecting it, he would've pissed himself and probably jumped out of his skin. The scuff of Miles' slippers on the hard tiled kitchen floor is a more than welcoming sound to Hobie's ears and he cant help but wonder if he's ever been so happy to see Miles ever.

"Hello to you too, asshole. How are you? Pav texted me and said you had a cold." The sofa sinks as Miles sits down next to him and a large smile is plastered to his face, his afro looks recently washed, and his face has the light residue of moisturiser that has been recently put on, making his face almost gleam. Hobie clears his throat and nods, his voice croaky and coarse when he speaks, but at least he isn't staring at miles anymore. He catches himself doing that a lot recently

"I'm peachy, mate, I don't believe in getting sick"

Miles rolls his eyes and nods over to the kitchen, wear a plate of relatively warm waffles sit on he counter near the microwave and next to the plate sits his house keys. "made them for you, mr 'I don't believe in breakfast', no wonder youre built like a twig." Miles flashes a toothy grin at Hobie, and he cant do much but roll his eyes at it, standing up with the blanket tightly wrapped around him as he waddles to the kitchen and picks the plate up, tucking his keys in his pockets and leaning against the counter as he eats.

The waffles are good, still warm and fluffy with a hint of sweetness to them, it only takes around 5 minutes for the plate to be emptied, no crumb in sight. Once the plate is washed and on the drying board, Hobie makes his way back to the sofa and practically melts into the cushions, closing his eyes and listening to the music Miles had put on quietly, although it wasn't his preferred genre, it was calming and se the perfect mood for just chilling.

-------

After hours of gaming, talking and just enjoying each other's company, the topic of conversation had been shifted to the suggestion Hobie made yesterday about staring a tattoo parlour and the two boys were currently brainstorming about how the hell theyre actually going to find a building up for rent to open the shop, let alone afford everything. Like he said yesterday, Hobie knew people that could help them out with the equipment and decorations so they don't have to spend too much money, but the biggest problem was who are they gonna hire?

If the shop gets popular enough, then there's gonna be more customers, so they will get overworked with just the two of them working, and lose customers, ending up in going bankrupt and having to close the shop. They had figured that Miles should keep his night shift to pay for the bills and things like that, and it gives him something to fall back on if the business fails, but if they get financially stable enough just by owning the tattoo parlour, Miles had already agreed to quit the shitty part time he had, because he was starting to dislike the job anyways.

They sat brainstorming like this for almost an hour, thinking of problems and coming up with solutions. They had somewhat a ghost of a plan, all they needed now was to put the plan into action. Hobie had a plan on calling up his old friends from his teenage days when he left Miles' place, to ask them if he could borrow their old tattooing kit. Thank the lords that social media exists, because Hobie wasn't too sure if the numbers he had on his phone were the numbers everyone used now, since the last time the group had talked was over a year ago, so he had the bright idea to stalk them on Instagram.

Turns out, two out of the group of 5 are in a band together and have plenty of posters that they needed to get rid of, which was perfect for decorations. The other three had separated and are now doing their own thing, the eldest has two kids and the other two have regular lives.

All Hobie had to do now was send a few DM's, collect a few numbers and re-kindle some friendships, can't be that hard, right?