Part of Baz regretted not picking another day, as he made his way across the short distance between his own flat in King’s Court and Charlie's in the Cantile district. The skies were clear as could be, but the wind was something to be reckoned with. Not constantly, but every so often a gust would come in off the bay that pushed hard at his back as he walked along. He had given up trying to keep his hair in some semblance of order, instead letting the wind arrange it as it saw fit. There was hope that, perhaps, as the day wore on, the wind would calm, but that wasn’t something that would help him right now. At least it wasn’t raining.
He paused for a moment and looked up at the sky, half expecting to get drenched in a deluge after having thought that. But it was still a clear pink glow mottled by swiftly moving clouds as the sun continued to rise. He turned his coat collar up around his face and carried on, one hand in his pocket and the other resting on a satchel at his hip. The satchel contained his binoculars, as well as an insulated flask of coffee and a few other small things.
He hadn’t expected Charlie to agree to the idea of bird watching. He hadn’t exactly expected to have much to do with Charlie at all, following their one night stand. That had changed, though, and, in a way, Baz was glad of it. He could have done without the drunken and drug-fueled trek through the neighborhoods of the harbour to what turned out to be a strip club, but aside from that. He hardly knew anyone in the harbour outside of those he worked with, despite his time here. Charlie had his foibles, but he was an entertaining companion.
He finally arrived at the other man’s door, windswept and rosy-cheeked but largely in one piece, and raised his hand to knock. There was no answer, the first time. He tried to listen to see if he could hear movement from the other side of the door, but nothing stuck out. So he knocked again, and waited once more.