The white sheep of the family
Loren barked out a laugh at Remi’s comment, though it was entirely humorless. ”Hardly.” Tapping the edge of the mug, the healer finally turned to face the alchemist, leaning one elbow against the bar. The Launceleyn's expression wasn't the polite mask he showed most of the world, but rather the tired and empty one that reflected the void in his mind.
Taking a sip, he turned haunted eyes to the other man. "So what does that make us then? Friends, acquaintances, or just people who've known each other for a long time?" Loren didn't really care about the answer.
Remi's question caused the healer to turn back to the bar, staring steadily ahead. "No. After. Just before I saw you." With that, he took what was likely an inadvisably long gulp of his beer, not noticing or ignoring the way some of it spilled onto his chest.
Taking a sip, he turned haunted eyes to the other man. "So what does that make us then? Friends, acquaintances, or just people who've known each other for a long time?" Loren didn't really care about the answer.
Remi's question caused the healer to turn back to the bar, staring steadily ahead. "No. After. Just before I saw you." With that, he took what was likely an inadvisably long gulp of his beer, not noticing or ignoring the way some of it spilled onto his chest.
Will blood tell
