// you can't keep a secret if it never was a secret to start —
He’s really glad to know that despite everything that’s happened to his friend, that he’s still happy. Drama was drama at times and no matter what happened to you, life seemed to move on without any second to look back at the things that had occurred. And while Thorn was of the mindset to sit and stew whenever they happened to him, he’s stayed free enough lately to avoid the majority of those from cropping back up.
So much so that when Zavien looks back at him and asks the question in return, Thorn’s seafoam gaze focuses on him with lifted brows, a crooked and roguish smile that is the precursor to the laugh that leaves him. “Oh yeah. I’ve got nothin’ to complain about, really.” Except for Colt leaving for the desert and losing another friend from King’s End. But it wasn’t like she was completely gone and he’d never be able to see her again, so he tries to keep that positive outlook.
As for the pasta place, though, the courtesan’s steps pick up a touch, sure that Sol will be able to pick it out from scent alone but also doesn’t want to be left behind. “Gods, it’s so good. They got this pesto thing ‘n these noodles I’m pretty sure they make outta potatoes? Wild. Like eatin’ a dream.” He groans with the thought, bounding up to the door to hold it open for Zavien to slip into first.
The little restaurant is decked out in hues of beige and reds, a homey kind of feel with the scent of bread and garlic and wholesome food within that already has the courtesan simultaneously perking up and melting with. He guides Zavien further into the restaurant toward a booth in the back, slipping into it and nodding to the waitress as she steps by to check in with another table – evident that either Thorn is a regular here or she’s a regular of his. Either way, he pulls out the menus from the back of the booth’s table and slides one over to Zavien for him to look through.
So much so that when Zavien looks back at him and asks the question in return, Thorn’s seafoam gaze focuses on him with lifted brows, a crooked and roguish smile that is the precursor to the laugh that leaves him. “Oh yeah. I’ve got nothin’ to complain about, really.” Except for Colt leaving for the desert and losing another friend from King’s End. But it wasn’t like she was completely gone and he’d never be able to see her again, so he tries to keep that positive outlook.
As for the pasta place, though, the courtesan’s steps pick up a touch, sure that Sol will be able to pick it out from scent alone but also doesn’t want to be left behind. “Gods, it’s so good. They got this pesto thing ‘n these noodles I’m pretty sure they make outta potatoes? Wild. Like eatin’ a dream.” He groans with the thought, bounding up to the door to hold it open for Zavien to slip into first.
The little restaurant is decked out in hues of beige and reds, a homey kind of feel with the scent of bread and garlic and wholesome food within that already has the courtesan simultaneously perking up and melting with. He guides Zavien further into the restaurant toward a booth in the back, slipping into it and nodding to the waitress as she steps by to check in with another table – evident that either Thorn is a regular here or she’s a regular of his. Either way, he pulls out the menus from the back of the booth’s table and slides one over to Zavien for him to look through.
thorn
— at least pretend you didn't wanna get caught,
we're concentrating on falling apart //
we're concentrating on falling apart //
