Koke is almost a complete difference. He's hopeful though that he can be a complete one.
He has a complicated personality that's frequently on test by those around him. That's the price he has to pay to prove that he's extremely or eccentrically dis...
The little light from outside and that from a table lamp try their best to illuminate a nearly dark room. It is possibly a living room for a faintly visible couch reports. One lucky part of the room is vividly seen. The pecan brown door. It all of a sudden at first, opens a little before it does so further rather slowly.
A lady-like figure approaches in whilst placing back the keys into her long-strapped handbag. She turns first to her right, detecting a switch before flipping on the light. She shuts the door with her left hand, the strips of her light pink handbag sliding down the arm leading to the hand. She holds the bag now by the edges near its zip, the long leather strips dangling lazily. She walks to the sofa, stopping right behind it and placing the bag near a pillow.
She rotates, walking towards the table lamp, turning it off first thing when she gets to it. She sighs, clasping her left palm onto her forehead. It's a long day probably. An adventure with some uncommon lad is also something. She absent-mindedly presses her lower back against the edge of the small square table carrying the lamp. She's looking towards the opposite end of the room. With both hands placed on the same edge of the table on her sides, she can't help but drift into a thoughtful space.
She tugs on one side of her lower lip with her teeth, tapping on the boundary of the table with all her fingertips rhythmically. She jolts off the chocolate brown table, heading towards another with a barrel glass bottle filled halfway with a brownish-orange liquid, a crystal whiskey glass and an empty vase designed with blue and purple flowers on a white background. It's a small and simple round table. The items on it fill three-quarters of the surface.
She opens the bottle with grandeur, pouring the brown liquid down her gullet lightly and sparingly first, before directing some into the whiskey glass. She seals off the bottle lazily before she twists for the couch.
She walks as if it's already a weekend. Visibly, she's tired. She begins sipping on the whiskey after dropping her ass onto the couch.
Koke is opening the door to his house. He has the keys into the lock already. He holds a takeaway box together with his black leather bag with short straps.
Once inside, he switches on the lights and closes the tawny door. He rests his rear on the door for a while. He shifts his attention to the TV, raising his eyebrows while nodding a little. He turns to the door, locking it and pulling out the keys. He walks to a round oval glass top table onto which he places the box first. The keys follow suit before he proceeds to his bedroom, the entrance to it being just behind the backside of the dull cream lounge designed with several black flowers. The couch faces the television set that sits on a plastic-like support body. The glass table stands in the space between the two properties facing each other.
He opens one of the doors of the purplish press, hanging in his bag on one of the rods inside.
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