Clemente
Clem's flaxen gaze scrapes over the woman's frame, feeling awkward and too tall, wanting to slip away back into the alleys and stalls and away from this smiling girl whose gratitude chafes. He hands over the bag just to get it done and over with, discomfort plain in the jut of his lower lip and the severe crease of how brow. Not that is very intimidating considering his general...himness. But it works.
"I 'unno, nothin' really. Don't need ta eat or drink or anything. Just don't be stupid and make me hafta help again." Despite his harsh words his tone never moves much away from gruff and embarrassed. Adjusting his weight from foot to foot, wanting to scamper off but reminding himself that talking to people was kinda his job for Wessex.
"I 'unno, nothin' really. Don't need ta eat or drink or anything. Just don't be stupid and make me hafta help again." Despite his harsh words his tone never moves much away from gruff and embarrassed. Adjusting his weight from foot to foot, wanting to scamper off but reminding himself that talking to people was kinda his job for Wessex.
Your mother started drinking like the whole world died
And You've been waiting for a miracle all your life
And You've been waiting for a miracle all your life
