Annie Hargreeves (
defenderofdesmoines) wrote2021-05-27 05:50 am
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Vought Tower | Thursday Evening
Today had been exhausting, but Annie couldn't sleep.
She'd eventually gotten out of that press junket and had changed her clothes quickly up in her apartment before meeting Hughie (in Times Square, which was kind of genius; it was busy enough that no one would recognize her, and if they did, they'd probably think she was a lookalike) and passing the V off to him.
And now they waited.
While Annie knew, logically, that the news probably wouldn't break until morning, and that she would definitely be alerted when it did, she still couldn't seem to keep from checking things compulsively -- she'd checked her news feed on her phone every few minutes since this afternoon, and even now, late into the night, she had the television facing her bed on with the sound off just in case the lower third of the screen illuminated with a breaking news alert.
She'd done a bunch of push-ups and sit-ups in an effort to dispel this nervous energy and get her mind off things, and had spent a few minutes poking around on her favorite time-killing websites, but nothing was quite distracting enough. She was anxious and so excited about this that she might just vibrate out of her skin, but on top of that, she was lonely. It was so isolating, being in the middle of something like this without any help -- save for her reluctant partnership with an exhausted guy who she really hadn't quite forgiven yet.
And it was that loneliness that had her staring up at her ceiling in bed for a long few minutes before she reached over to her nightstand for her phone.
And then put it back down. It really was late, right?
...but that was also the point, maybe?
Half-hoping that he wouldn't answer, she went ahead and pulled up her texts with Diego, and typed in:
are you up?
[obv for boyfriend, yes. also go ahead and assume 'u up?' means what it means and proceed with NSFW-related caution.]
She'd eventually gotten out of that press junket and had changed her clothes quickly up in her apartment before meeting Hughie (in Times Square, which was kind of genius; it was busy enough that no one would recognize her, and if they did, they'd probably think she was a lookalike) and passing the V off to him.
And now they waited.
While Annie knew, logically, that the news probably wouldn't break until morning, and that she would definitely be alerted when it did, she still couldn't seem to keep from checking things compulsively -- she'd checked her news feed on her phone every few minutes since this afternoon, and even now, late into the night, she had the television facing her bed on with the sound off just in case the lower third of the screen illuminated with a breaking news alert.
She'd done a bunch of push-ups and sit-ups in an effort to dispel this nervous energy and get her mind off things, and had spent a few minutes poking around on her favorite time-killing websites, but nothing was quite distracting enough. She was anxious and so excited about this that she might just vibrate out of her skin, but on top of that, she was lonely. It was so isolating, being in the middle of something like this without any help -- save for her reluctant partnership with an exhausted guy who she really hadn't quite forgiven yet.
And it was that loneliness that had her staring up at her ceiling in bed for a long few minutes before she reached over to her nightstand for her phone.
And then put it back down. It really was late, right?
...but that was also the point, maybe?
Half-hoping that he wouldn't answer, she went ahead and pulled up her texts with Diego, and typed in:
are you up?
[obv for boyfriend, yes. also go ahead and assume 'u up?' means what it means and proceed with NSFW-related caution.]
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Which almost seemed sort of dirty in the context of, like, still being all naked and kind of afterglowy.
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"Well now I'm not going to be able to hear that without thinking about this," she murmured.
Which, like, no problem. She was only surrounded by that phrase.
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Seriously, she could feel how hot her face was, still. It wasn't even embarrassment anymore, really, so much as...like, she did not expect all of that to work for her the way it had.
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And she would certainly be texting him reminders, now that she was marginally less shy about it all.
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That idea had some merit.
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Though she had a feeling that having Diego direct her would be very different from her usual experience with photographers. Just a feeling.
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Annie sighed contentedly, giving him a fond smile. "Did you refuse to hold still? Mess around with your brothers? Make faces?"
Like, these all seemed likely.
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And now Annie needed to see these magazines.
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It was kind of fun being back on the other side of fangirling again.
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She, naturally, usually dotted her own i's when signing autographs with a star. Obviously.
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Which could not be seen from here, but she totally had it in a place of honor on her vanity, along with the bespoke Starlight figure. (Which was still leagues better than the cheap, barely-posable, giant-boobed hunks of plastic that Vought was pumping out.)
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