The white sheep of the family
"I don't mind taking what I can get." Loren's voice was slightly teasing, and amusement glittered in his eyes. As Weaver expressed a desire for better alcohol, he smirked a little. "Well. Perhaps someone might just grant that particular wish." There was a wry tone to the words and he smirked a little.
It turned into a full grin at her assessment of him. "So far, huh." Taking a sip from his mug, he tipped it at her in acknowledgement. "Well, the night is still young." And he was more than happy to see where it, and this conversation, led.
"Maybe that was on purpose." He leaned forward a bit, eyes slightly narrowed. "What are your wants and needs?" It came out with a slightly flirtatious edge, though it was more playful than anything else.
Letting out a huff of laughter of laughter, he stayed where he was rather than moving back. "Don't fuck up. At least it's easy enough advice to follow." Then his lips twitched. "They can't be much worse than a throat torn out by a lion." For just a moment, something dark and ugly flickered in his eyes before he banished it.
Slouching against the bar now, he sipped his mug, the taste growing on him (or maybe he was just getting tipsy). "Now I have to say this seems unfair. You know everything you seem to think matters about me, and I know almost nothing about you."
It turned into a full grin at her assessment of him. "So far, huh." Taking a sip from his mug, he tipped it at her in acknowledgement. "Well, the night is still young." And he was more than happy to see where it, and this conversation, led.
"Maybe that was on purpose." He leaned forward a bit, eyes slightly narrowed. "What are your wants and needs?" It came out with a slightly flirtatious edge, though it was more playful than anything else.
Letting out a huff of laughter of laughter, he stayed where he was rather than moving back. "Don't fuck up. At least it's easy enough advice to follow." Then his lips twitched. "They can't be much worse than a throat torn out by a lion." For just a moment, something dark and ugly flickered in his eyes before he banished it.
Slouching against the bar now, he sipped his mug, the taste growing on him (or maybe he was just getting tipsy). "Now I have to say this seems unfair. You know everything you seem to think matters about me, and I know almost nothing about you."
Will blood tell
