Writing is not a Social Hobby [Cobalt]

[Dylan Black]

Today was Dylan's day off. More or less he and Levi had this quiet agreement that once a week they'd cover for the other. Levi was annoying. But at least he didn't push his presence on Dylan, and generally they pair of them could avoid each other comfortably on the days they were both working. But Thursday was Dylan's day of rest, and he silently brooded off to Kali's where he could have coffee and generally be left well alone to do the thing he always wanted to do.

Write.

With his draft notepad by his side, he took the most anti-social table humanly possible (far corner, two seater) and opened up his laptop. So far he'd redrafted paragraph one at least 12 times, because despite his inherent laziness, Dylan wanted his story to be perfect. It was a tale set in a world where humans were the minority, and a vampire detective on the case of a dead lycan. He was very proud of the story line and the world making, but still. Tweaking needed to happen.

Sipping his coffee, he frowned and deleted a sentence, then grumbled to himself and tried it again. It was the introductory sentence to this detective, and it bothered the crap out of him that it wasn't moving how he wanted.

Dylan settled back and took a few deep breaths. He needed to just sit back and think for a second.