Christopher Harris
Christopher sat in the back of the car - a big, black American thing that neither he nor his driver seemed to be overly fond of. He looked over at the usually stoic driver, smirking at the fingers tapping on the steering wheel - in time with the music filling the leather gilded, air conditioned, cavernous interior. The man might not like him, but at least he valued Christopher’s musical tastes - in lieu of the garbage his brothers and sisters preferred. He turned his head, and stared out over the unfamiliar landscape, large patches of manicured grass, intermittently interrupted by long, paved driveways. It was not long before they slowed to one of these, and passed through the automatic gates. They stopped finally in front of a beautiful manor house that had Christopher nostalgic and homesick for a moment, before he bit his tongue and took a deep breath - dispersing the thoughts and feelings. After that, the motions were observed - the sound of a door opening, and closing - the crunch of expensive leather shoes on gravel - another door opening - him getting out and buttoning his blazer. Another sigh.
“I am not sure whether or not I will actually stay here… ( he did not look at the man, but kept his face directed to the still closed front doors) Take my luggage with you to the nearest hotel, and await further instructions.” He started walking forwards, keeping his face impassive. The car door shut once more behind him, and the car pulled away. He knocked politely, seeing as the doors were seemingly devoid of bell or knocker. He chanced another deep breath, and cringed slightly when he heard the sounds of children being happy somewhere in the distance. This had better not be some pseudo-frat house type of deal.
Christopher sat in the back of the car - a big, black American thing that neither he nor his driver seemed to be overly fond of. He looked over at the usually stoic driver, smirking at the fingers tapping on the steering wheel - in time with the music filling the leather gilded, air conditioned, cavernous interior. The man might not like him, but at least he valued Christopher’s musical tastes - in lieu of the garbage his brothers and sisters preferred. He turned his head, and stared out over the unfamiliar landscape, large patches of manicured grass, intermittently interrupted by long, paved driveways. It was not long before they slowed to one of these, and passed through the automatic gates. They stopped finally in front of a beautiful manor house that had Christopher nostalgic and homesick for a moment, before he bit his tongue and took a deep breath - dispersing the thoughts and feelings. After that, the motions were observed - the sound of a door opening, and closing - the crunch of expensive leather shoes on gravel - another door opening - him getting out and buttoning his blazer. Another sigh.
“I am not sure whether or not I will actually stay here… ( he did not look at the man, but kept his face directed to the still closed front doors) Take my luggage with you to the nearest hotel, and await further instructions.” He started walking forwards, keeping his face impassive. The car door shut once more behind him, and the car pulled away. He knocked politely, seeing as the doors were seemingly devoid of bell or knocker. He chanced another deep breath, and cringed slightly when he heard the sounds of children being happy somewhere in the distance. This had better not be some pseudo-frat house type of deal.