It's probably too early to relax, but beer is a sort of drink that sneaks up on a person after a time. Makes them sleepy, drowsy, and Mark's entering that phase a bit himself, although he tries hard to blink at regular intervals, ridding himself of the bleariness that he doesn't want now, now of all times. The human body is sometimes ridiculous. Makes the desire to sleep so hard to fight, even when this is the first time he's really talked to his best friend (former? present? who the hell knows, still probably the person who knows Mark the best even after all this time) in years, practically half a decade. Part of him hopes that walking about might be better, knows that he isn't exaggerating when he says that this is more substantial food than he's gotten in quite some time. Most meals that he doesn't spend on his own are with potential business partners, investors, occasionally employees, and the problem with being around a group of people like that is the fact that there is always more to talk about, always more to be excited about, and by comparison the food on one's plate seems pretty dull indeed. Eating at home, since he does it so rarely, usually consists of relative nonperishables. Ramen. Cheese and crackers. Celery and carrot sticks.
He's been on more than a few dates with a girl too, Priscilla, and it's getting to the point where she probably considers it a pretty serious thing on her end, but the way Mark figures, if he's still chasing Erica Albright down on facebook after all those years, he can't put too much stock into that. She's nice enough, though. Mark's even learned a few words of Mandarin. Might as well have been a figment of his imagination, though, since she isn't actually on the island.
It takes some effort to shake himself out of his reverie, but Mark looks up again, slight quirk in his lips. "Well I mean, I wasn't sure if you had space," he says, brow slightly furrowed. "My guess is that on an island like this, with people arriving out of nowhere, that there's probably some room or house set aside with extra beds and sheets for the newcomers— meaning you don't need to worry about putting up space for the lost and hapless— and the heightened rate of cycling probably means there are a lot of huts up for grabs at any given time. I figured you had a single. Single-person living space."
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He's been on more than a few dates with a girl too, Priscilla, and it's getting to the point where she probably considers it a pretty serious thing on her end, but the way Mark figures, if he's still chasing Erica Albright down on facebook after all those years, he can't put too much stock into that. She's nice enough, though. Mark's even learned a few words of Mandarin. Might as well have been a figment of his imagination, though, since she isn't actually on the island.
It takes some effort to shake himself out of his reverie, but Mark looks up again, slight quirk in his lips. "Well I mean, I wasn't sure if you had space," he says, brow slightly furrowed. "My guess is that on an island like this, with people arriving out of nowhere, that there's probably some room or house set aside with extra beds and sheets for the newcomers— meaning you don't need to worry about putting up space for the lost and hapless— and the heightened rate of cycling probably means there are a lot of huts up for grabs at any given time. I figured you had a single. Single-person living space."