The white sheep of the family
Biting his lip, Loren shrugged. "I was raised as a child soldier. Killing, or being okay with killing is kind of...part of the deal." He gave Weaver an almost apologetic and certainly chagrined smile.
His eyes, though, were haunted.
"Are you offering?" Unsurprisingly, his tone indicated that he very much doubted that she was. Sighing, he toyed with his empty mug. "I don't know why though. That's not...I mean it is self-pity, but I'm not fishing for compliments or anything. I just...don't know." Letting out a bitter laugh, he shook his head a little.
As she asked what would make him happy, he studied her features. "This." With that, he closed the last little bit of distance between them to place a chaste kiss on her lips.
His eyes, though, were haunted.
"Are you offering?" Unsurprisingly, his tone indicated that he very much doubted that she was. Sighing, he toyed with his empty mug. "I don't know why though. That's not...I mean it is self-pity, but I'm not fishing for compliments or anything. I just...don't know." Letting out a bitter laugh, he shook his head a little.
As she asked what would make him happy, he studied her features. "This." With that, he closed the last little bit of distance between them to place a chaste kiss on her lips.
Will blood tell
