Uncharted territory
Ivo was fairly certain his and Vice's definitions of fun didn't quite match.
"I don't want any parties, I'm not in the mood to see other people."
Vice scoffed, and reached behind him to get a frog-shaped glass ashtray on which he stubbed out the roach.
"Do I look ready to entertain?" He asked, raising one eyebrow.
He looked fine to Ivo, as put-together and stylish, as Ivo had ever seen him. "Maybe, how would I know?"
Another scoff followed by an eye-roll. "The place is a mess."
Ivo looked around the apartment. Other than the unmade bed in the nook above the kitchen, there was nothing out of place. Not a speck of dust in sight. He couldn't be sure about their definitions of fun, but he and Vice definitely didn't agree on what constituted 'mess'.
"You could practically eat off the floor," he said, pointing at a bare stretch of parquet flooring.
Vice grimaced. "Please tell me you don't usually do that."