Oh, darling, if I ever cross your mind
He’s been sipping the coffee easily in between the rants he’s gone on about the bartender at the House of Midnight that (according to Thorn) playfully despises him, and the way he plans to take some matters into his own hands this Flowerbirth when she returns from the kitchen with the sandwiches.
He’s drawn silent, waiting to see if she picks up any portion of what he’s said as she picks up the tack she’d been working on in between. He remains just as quiet as he snags one of the sandwiches, his hummed thanks leaving him, muffled by the bite that he takes. She seems off and he can’t quite tell why, but something about it seems to suggest Vesper because that’s really the only difference he remembers her mentioning.
Colt’s question is met with a shake of his head as he swallows down the bite he’d taken. “Just some kinda revenge shtick. It’s no big deal, really. What’re your plans?” He changes the subject, leaning toward her a touch as he goes to nab the cup of coffee again, the courtesan’s seafoam gaze lingering on her face and squinting slightly as if he can read her mind – in which he most definitely can’t. “You got anythin’ goin’ with Vesper?” He asks bluntly – curiosity getting the better of him as he starts to knock down the biggest contenders of people and things she's been dealing with as of late.
He’s drawn silent, waiting to see if she picks up any portion of what he’s said as she picks up the tack she’d been working on in between. He remains just as quiet as he snags one of the sandwiches, his hummed thanks leaving him, muffled by the bite that he takes. She seems off and he can’t quite tell why, but something about it seems to suggest Vesper because that’s really the only difference he remembers her mentioning.
Colt’s question is met with a shake of his head as he swallows down the bite he’d taken. “Just some kinda revenge shtick. It’s no big deal, really. What’re your plans?” He changes the subject, leaning toward her a touch as he goes to nab the cup of coffee again, the courtesan’s seafoam gaze lingering on her face and squinting slightly as if he can read her mind – in which he most definitely can’t. “You got anythin’ goin’ with Vesper?” He asks bluntly – curiosity getting the better of him as he starts to knock down the biggest contenders of people and things she's been dealing with as of late.
Hawthorn
Won't you let me know?
