Casting the Line [I]

Jomo giggles in response, finding himself really enjoying hanging out with Dimi. His tail sways happily behind him and his markings are glowing brightly.

"I like cherries too! My family used to have a few trees actually..." He says excitedly, moving his hands to his lap. Jomo has fond memories of harvesting them, though there weren't many trees because they couldn't afford to keep many, it was enough for him. When he was little the small patch of trees always seemed like a large grove to him, along with all the other fruit trees his family owned.

"Not too late.. I think I get off around 4. Why?" He can feel his heart jump in his chest like an excited puppy trying to reach for a ball. He tries to keep his voice calm although he can barely contain his excitement that maybe, just maybe, Dimi will ask to hang out with him after work.

"Huh... Cool," he replies to Jomo's comment on the fruit, his tone is a little distant, the thought of family and childhood is always a tender subject for Dimi who never really had one of his own. The young man doesn't mean to be rude, it just so happens to be his natural response.

"I get off around 5 since I worked early today, wanna hang out or someth'in?" he questions, his voice still a but more quiet than usual. Nothing wrong with two guys hanging out. No drinks, no smoking, just hanging out... No harm in that at all. A nervous stirring sets itself in the pit of Dimi's stomach, but it doesn't show on his face. His anxieties rarely show on his face.

Jomo feels a warm stirring in the pit of his stomach when Dimi asks to hang out later. He had never been one to be good with intuition but it seems he was right this time, and oh god was he counting his blessings. He can feel a light blush spread across his cheeks like a warm towel had been placed upon them, his ears starting to flutter in response without him noticing.

"Yeah!" He says a little too enthusiastically, he tries again. "I mean, yeah. That'd be cool, uh, where do you wanna meet?" He asks, his face becoming slightly redder.

He could never fail to embarrass himself, could he? He hears the pat of his fellow laundry workers footsteps slowly coming down the hall and he realizes just how much time he spent talking to Dimi. He still has a little time to kill though before he really has to leave...

Dimi smirks warmly at Jomo's enthusiasm and when he catches himself, finding it endearing. The young man seriously can't get over Jomo's fin flapping, it's too funny... And too cute. Dimi looks down at his lap and then back up at Jomo.

"Let's meet up outside the lobby, we can walk around or whatever," he suggests and when he hears the others coming down the hallway he gets to his feet.

"I'm gonna get outta here now that I've finished this tub, but I'll meet you down there at five thirty alright?" He asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he looks down at Jomo.

Jomo hops to his feet shortly after Dimi does with a smile on his face. Though he's still shorter than him, its only by a couple inches. His tail sways merrily behind him as he listens to Dimi speak, nodding his head a little in agreement.

"Sounds good." He says, the markings on his body positively glowing according to his mood. "I'll see you then!" He says with a grin before picking up his shirt from the bottom of the tub.

He starts walking out of the tub, turning around to wave to Dimi once again. He steps over the edge and starts to slip on his shirt merrily, though, as he realizes Dimi saw his scars his breath catches in his throat for a split second. He resumes his normal breathing and remembers what the woman said.. He repeats her words in his mind.

The scars on his back are bumped over with scar tissue, most as wide as the cut was deep. And oh.. Were some of them deep. Theres only a few spots on his back where his skin was clear and tan like the rest of his body, although, some larger than others. Most of the scars wrapped around so the ends of them were visible on his front side. He resented the people who did this to him, they were the only people he truly loathed.

Dimi nods his head to Jomo and gives him a little salute when he waves, the stirring still pestering him within the depths of his stomach. The endearing traits Jomo retains though, his bright personality and body, how friendly he is, those things sooth him and make him feel better about the decision he just made.

His eyes catch the scars that litter and cut into Jomo's back and Dimi's brow furrows hard. How would someone like Jomo get those? The knot in Dimi's stomach tightens with anxiousness, though the only sign of it that shows on his face is his furrowed brow.

When he realizes he's staring he grows embarrassed and looks down at his feet, hopping over the side of the tub. He pulls his tank top on again, his mind buzzing with thoughts as to what could have possibly happened to Jomo.

He blinks slowly, forcing them out of his mind. It's not his business. It's not his business unless Jomo tells him about it, then he can ponder. Until then he will have to wait until the two of them spend more time together.

Dimi picks up his things and walks out of the laundry room, his stomach still turning with nervousness.