Liam
And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground
This, at least, was somewhat familiar territory for Liam, who had often been given instructions for specific things to look for in the past. Though he lacked the imagination to visualize what something would look like off the rack and on one's person, he could dutifully sort through hangers of clothes with the best of them.
Seeing Maea pick out a few pairs of pants, Liam turned his attention to the shirts. They came in a variety of colors, cuts, and fabrics, and for a moment, the soldier considered all of the options with a look of bemusement on his features. Hesitantly, he began to sort through one rack of reds, opting to focus on darker, deeper hues rather than bright cherries or pastel roses. There was a crimson option he rather liked, and a darker burgundy that had promise. Both were in cuts that seemed practical for living in the field. If Maea was determined not to accept shelter from him (and with no way of knowing whether the inn would be to her liking), then he'd better make sure that she'd be warm and comfortable.
Folding the clothes over one arm, he searched for a rack of blues and found it, flipping through silks and laces until he got to more pragmatic options. He personally was drawn to sapphire, but thought that might be too bold; instead, he ended up with a midnight blue shirt that he thought might be too similar to black and a slightly lighter navy option.
With four shirts to choose from, he wandered back over to Maea and held them up for her inspection. "What about any of these?" he asked, his voice a quiet rumble.
Seeing Maea pick out a few pairs of pants, Liam turned his attention to the shirts. They came in a variety of colors, cuts, and fabrics, and for a moment, the soldier considered all of the options with a look of bemusement on his features. Hesitantly, he began to sort through one rack of reds, opting to focus on darker, deeper hues rather than bright cherries or pastel roses. There was a crimson option he rather liked, and a darker burgundy that had promise. Both were in cuts that seemed practical for living in the field. If Maea was determined not to accept shelter from him (and with no way of knowing whether the inn would be to her liking), then he'd better make sure that she'd be warm and comfortable.
Folding the clothes over one arm, he searched for a rack of blues and found it, flipping through silks and laces until he got to more pragmatic options. He personally was drawn to sapphire, but thought that might be too bold; instead, he ended up with a midnight blue shirt that he thought might be too similar to black and a slightly lighter navy option.
With four shirts to choose from, he wandered back over to Maea and held them up for her inspection. "What about any of these?" he asked, his voice a quiet rumble.
And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now
You don't wanna know me now
