[He gives them a hard glare, and gets out himself before they can shove him out, then slams the door hard.
On his own tab. Great. He figures he'll just hitchhike his way there, or take the bus instead of flying. Or walk--he's not going to leave Grey Wind behind. One last defiance, perhaps.
He glances around, then starts walking back to his apartment. Right, he's only got three days to pack up, cancel every appointment he's made, quit his job at Starbucks, and say goodbye to the friends he's managed to make. Three days, and then he leaves New York behind and goes back to Vegas.
He opens the door, moves to turn on the lights before he remembers that he's been cut off, then bends down to catch Grey Wind as the dog bounds up to him, tail wagging.]
I missed you too. [Robb ruffles the dog's fur, then sets him down and stands up. New York has been his home for a while now, more of one than Las Vegas ever could've been, and for a moment he had managed to fool himself into thinking he could stick around forever. He supposes maybe he had that coming--he'd been careless in his escape, and Ros had paid the price.
He'd run, shed the name of Baelish for a little while, and it had honestly been the best feeling in the world, despite the hardships. He doubts he'll be able to experience that again.
Well. He's got three days. He figures he'll give himself two days of work to raise some money and say goodbye, then one day to pack up and leave the Big Apple behind.
How did that song go again? These vagabond shoes, they are longing to stray through the very heart of it... Well, he'd strayed through and around that heart, and he'd grown to like it.
And now he's leaving, and he's sure he'll miss it.
HMM how about we set that log after the one with cat?
On his own tab. Great. He figures he'll just hitchhike his way there, or take the bus instead of flying. Or walk--he's not going to leave Grey Wind behind. One last defiance, perhaps.
He glances around, then starts walking back to his apartment. Right, he's only got three days to pack up, cancel every appointment he's made, quit his job at Starbucks, and say goodbye to the friends he's managed to make. Three days, and then he leaves New York behind and goes back to Vegas.
He opens the door, moves to turn on the lights before he remembers that he's been cut off, then bends down to catch Grey Wind as the dog bounds up to him, tail wagging.]
I missed you too. [Robb ruffles the dog's fur, then sets him down and stands up. New York has been his home for a while now, more of one than Las Vegas ever could've been, and for a moment he had managed to fool himself into thinking he could stick around forever. He supposes maybe he had that coming--he'd been careless in his escape, and Ros had paid the price.
He'd run, shed the name of Baelish for a little while, and it had honestly been the best feeling in the world, despite the hardships. He doubts he'll be able to experience that again.
Well. He's got three days. He figures he'll give himself two days of work to raise some money and say goodbye, then one day to pack up and leave the Big Apple behind.
How did that song go again? These vagabond shoes, they are longing to stray through the very heart of it... Well, he'd strayed through and around that heart, and he'd grown to like it.
And now he's leaving, and he's sure he'll miss it.
If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere.]