Hester
Tight hold on that hope
There's no mention of her painful, but successful, choking down of the shot, but she seems to have inspired some kind of pity, yet another drink poured out for her. She might accuse him of trying to get her drunk, if he seemed just a little more inclined to take the joke well. Already though, Hester can feel warmth crawling up her cheeks, her head feeling light, her smile gripping to her face far easier.
"What did you used to play?" Comes the immediate request for more information, the simple answer igniting a kind of kinship in her chest. Or, igniting something. She can definitely feel a burn. Even in the state she's in though, she knows to be sombre at the next words, to not immediately speak up again as his gaze left her.
There had been so much loss lately, for so many people. She had been lucky, hadn't lost anyone too close, though one of her sisters had lost a husband, fallen in the line of duty. It wasn't quite the same kind of pain though. It clicks together, quite suddenly, a piece sliding into place in her foggy mind. She knows who he is, at least knows of him, and her heart suddenly aches a little bit. "I'm sorry about your sister. I can't imagine it." The words are soft, a silent prayer sent out for him, for Weaver. She doesn't dare look back up until she can feel his gaze return to her, and even then, Hester is careful to avoid his eyes, lest she see too much emotion, and start to tear up herself.
"The youngest and best!" She confirms brightly, trying to fight the darkness back with a overly saccharine tone, her head tipping to the side cutely, the gesture making her more dizzy enough that she couldn't quite recover right away. "I usually go by Hester though. Hettie, if we're friends." She leaves it up to him to decide what to call her, and reaches out to take his hand, shaking it easily. "It's nice to meet you Korbin. I wish it was in a happier time."
"What did you used to play?" Comes the immediate request for more information, the simple answer igniting a kind of kinship in her chest. Or, igniting something. She can definitely feel a burn. Even in the state she's in though, she knows to be sombre at the next words, to not immediately speak up again as his gaze left her.
There had been so much loss lately, for so many people. She had been lucky, hadn't lost anyone too close, though one of her sisters had lost a husband, fallen in the line of duty. It wasn't quite the same kind of pain though. It clicks together, quite suddenly, a piece sliding into place in her foggy mind. She knows who he is, at least knows of him, and her heart suddenly aches a little bit. "I'm sorry about your sister. I can't imagine it." The words are soft, a silent prayer sent out for him, for Weaver. She doesn't dare look back up until she can feel his gaze return to her, and even then, Hester is careful to avoid his eyes, lest she see too much emotion, and start to tear up herself.
"The youngest and best!" She confirms brightly, trying to fight the darkness back with a overly saccharine tone, her head tipping to the side cutely, the gesture making her more dizzy enough that she couldn't quite recover right away. "I usually go by Hester though. Hettie, if we're friends." She leaves it up to him to decide what to call her, and reaches out to take his hand, shaking it easily. "It's nice to meet you Korbin. I wish it was in a happier time."
Sometimes it could seem so cold
Do what you gotta do to cope
