Damien
oh, let's take a chance and roll the bones
try to forget all them enemies and debts
'cause they'll just chase you round
and give you sour dreams
try to forget all them enemies and debts
'cause they'll just chase you round
and give you sour dreams
Damien lets her laughter linger, the sound catching in his chest more than he’d admit. He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth lifting just faintly. “Yeah? Guess that means my reputation is still intact, then,” he says, smirking. He gives a soft grunt, eyes tracking the foam curling over her ankles, the light in the water reflecting in a way that almost makes him forget the chill. Almost.
“Speaking of keeping an eye on things…” His gaze flicks to her, steady but not insistent. “Your new place—housewarming, or whatever you’re calling it—any chance you’ll be having… company? Wouldn’t mind seeing it properly, once the dust has settled. I'll even bring you a bottle of the good stuff from Halo.” He doesn’t linger on the invitation, doesn’t push it; it’s a simple opening, casual but sincere.
“And… on the matter of repayment, for the timber, take your time,” he adds after a beat, voice careful, not boastful, not awkward. "Though I wouldn't say no to some exotic goods.” Exotic if only to him, being the Halovian woodsman he is. If there happened to be a few bottles of that Torchline rum in the deal for him, well, he wouldn't complain.
He shifts his weight, looking out over the waves for a long moment, letting the conversation hang between them like the tide. Then, almost on a whim, he glances back at her, smirk faint, roughened by thought. “Y'know, you’re easy to talk to, Flora. Not… many people are. Just thought you should know.”
With that, he tucks his hands in his pockets and takes pause, letting the warmth of the sun and the sound of the surf fill the pause.
“Speaking of keeping an eye on things…” His gaze flicks to her, steady but not insistent. “Your new place—housewarming, or whatever you’re calling it—any chance you’ll be having… company? Wouldn’t mind seeing it properly, once the dust has settled. I'll even bring you a bottle of the good stuff from Halo.” He doesn’t linger on the invitation, doesn’t push it; it’s a simple opening, casual but sincere.
“And… on the matter of repayment, for the timber, take your time,” he adds after a beat, voice careful, not boastful, not awkward. "Though I wouldn't say no to some exotic goods.” Exotic if only to him, being the Halovian woodsman he is. If there happened to be a few bottles of that Torchline rum in the deal for him, well, he wouldn't complain.
He shifts his weight, looking out over the waves for a long moment, letting the conversation hang between them like the tide. Then, almost on a whim, he glances back at her, smirk faint, roughened by thought. “Y'know, you’re easy to talk to, Flora. Not… many people are. Just thought you should know.”
With that, he tucks his hands in his pockets and takes pause, letting the warmth of the sun and the sound of the surf fill the pause.
