Ichiro awoke early the next lightless morning. He was in a tangle of limbs with Lola, after a long and very satisfying night of company. His head was clear, not hinting the slightest at the vast amount of alochol he had imbibed with the lovely woman late into the night. He'd always awoke with the crack of dawn, but today had been a little later than he was used to, but early by any's account. Without the first light of the sunrise, his body's clock was confused, but hadn't deserted Ichiro. Now, the Japanese man needed to go about his normal routine. He set about on his morning prayers, then exercises in his weight room, and finally took a long and much appreciated shower.
After drying off and tying up his hair in a messy ponytail, he grinned at Lola's elegant and alluring appearance. Her form was outlined by the silk top sheet that now lay about her, giving rise to a resurgence of passion he felt for her. Chuckling softly over the rim of his mug as he remembered the night, or morning, if one stopped to consider the time they'd been involved until. Either way, Ichiro's amusement was short-lived as pangs of hunger hit him. He'd not yet eaten, wanting to wait for Lola to awaken, but he didn't think it prudent to put it off much longer. His lounging robe was a traditional kimono that one would wear to bed or around their house. Rolling back and pinning the long sleeves, he cooked himself a piping hot omelette, stuffed with goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and fresh green and red pepper, diced beforehand. He had long since cooked his own meals, a habit picked up from his time as a Yakuza member. Since he cooked and prepared his own meals, no one had ever had a chance to kill him with imbibed poisons. He hated the idea of a good meal ruined by a cowardly poison. It just didn't seem right.
He settled in to a second cup of coffee and his just made omelette. Lola would wake up in her own time, Ichiro knew. What he didn't know, was why he didn't hear the chirp of birds, even so late into the dark morning... Where had they gone?
After drying off and tying up his hair in a messy ponytail, he grinned at Lola's elegant and alluring appearance. Her form was outlined by the silk top sheet that now lay about her, giving rise to a resurgence of passion he felt for her. Chuckling softly over the rim of his mug as he remembered the night, or morning, if one stopped to consider the time they'd been involved until. Either way, Ichiro's amusement was short-lived as pangs of hunger hit him. He'd not yet eaten, wanting to wait for Lola to awaken, but he didn't think it prudent to put it off much longer. His lounging robe was a traditional kimono that one would wear to bed or around their house. Rolling back and pinning the long sleeves, he cooked himself a piping hot omelette, stuffed with goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and fresh green and red pepper, diced beforehand. He had long since cooked his own meals, a habit picked up from his time as a Yakuza member. Since he cooked and prepared his own meals, no one had ever had a chance to kill him with imbibed poisons. He hated the idea of a good meal ruined by a cowardly poison. It just didn't seem right.
He settled in to a second cup of coffee and his just made omelette. Lola would wake up in her own time, Ichiro knew. What he didn't know, was why he didn't hear the chirp of birds, even so late into the dark morning... Where had they gone?