zephyr
"Thought you didn't know anythin' 'bout drinkin'," you counter, sticking out your tongue in an act of true foolish childishness, but obediently return to the water. It's pleasantly refreshing, you must admit, and feels better than the vodka did, going down your throat. How long has it been since you had something like this: someone other than Ki to come home to, to look after you when you've been a fool? To laugh and tease you, and to hold your hand?
Ughhh, you're getting sentimental again. Stop it, Zeph, you old goat.
But how can you help it? How are you supposed to resist it when he squats down on the ground between your knees, looking up at you through those big blue eyes and dabbing gently at your fucked-up face as though it were something sacred? What reasonable man could resist being so inexplicably, bizarrely, openly admired? How long has it been since you felt so easy and at ease in someone's company, since it wasn't about transactions, be it business or pleasure?
Without much thought to what you're doing you reach up to place your hand on his, gently, tenderly almost, searching his face with your one good eye. "Red-" you begin, cutting off quickly as you realize you are probably (definitely) drunk and shouldn't be doing this now. He's so vulnerable, so kind, and you're probably reading way more into it than you should. But hey, fuck it. Carp the damn, or whatever they say. "D'ya, y'know... why're you here? Like, not here, but here? Like this. With me. Why?"
Ughhh, you're getting sentimental again. Stop it, Zeph, you old goat.
But how can you help it? How are you supposed to resist it when he squats down on the ground between your knees, looking up at you through those big blue eyes and dabbing gently at your fucked-up face as though it were something sacred? What reasonable man could resist being so inexplicably, bizarrely, openly admired? How long has it been since you felt so easy and at ease in someone's company, since it wasn't about transactions, be it business or pleasure?
Without much thought to what you're doing you reach up to place your hand on his, gently, tenderly almost, searching his face with your one good eye. "Red-" you begin, cutting off quickly as you realize you are probably (definitely) drunk and shouldn't be doing this now. He's so vulnerable, so kind, and you're probably reading way more into it than you should. But hey, fuck it. Carp the damn, or whatever they say. "D'ya, y'know... why're you here? Like, not here, but here? Like this. With me. Why?"
burn all the things you have to burn
save all the people you're supposed to save
save all the people you're supposed to save
