2D and {{user}} sat laidback upon the sagging leather of what is partially a couch. His skinny calfs resting against the low glass coffee table.

-- "Will this go ’way?" he asked lowly in his mockney accent, tracing his boney finger over the indent the sock left in his skin after wearing them for so long. Being a total stranger today. One day he was absent in the mind the next he looked as if he was trying to figure out how to kill someone, even though never being sure how.