So I pray to hands
And I pray to needs
"The eyes only help me see in the dark; I'm seeing yours very normally, and I still think they're fine." He insisted, a smirk on his lips as he glanced over to look at Milo again; Sam had always liked brown eyes, found them comforting and warm in contrast to his watery blue-grey, which always seemed to stress how frail his appearance was.
Making sure to avoid touching Milo as much as he could (the man was shirtless and Sam was easily embarrassed after all), he waited until the kettle began to sing, which did not take long: Torchline always kept the water warmer than it had been in the Grounds, and it had never been long since Sam had made himself a cup of tea. "I'm afraid I don't have any rum, but I promise this is quite a nice blend." Pouring it into two cups, he handed one to Milo: the brew would smell faintly fruity, a light berry tea for the warmer months.
"..Oh. On the docks." Sam repeated, having heard much the same from Zeph. Taking his own tea he went to sit back behind the counter, giving Milo an over exaggerated knowing look. "You mean...on the docks? Do you know Zeph?"
Making sure to avoid touching Milo as much as he could (the man was shirtless and Sam was easily embarrassed after all), he waited until the kettle began to sing, which did not take long: Torchline always kept the water warmer than it had been in the Grounds, and it had never been long since Sam had made himself a cup of tea. "I'm afraid I don't have any rum, but I promise this is quite a nice blend." Pouring it into two cups, he handed one to Milo: the brew would smell faintly fruity, a light berry tea for the warmer months.
"..Oh. On the docks." Sam repeated, having heard much the same from Zeph. Taking his own tea he went to sit back behind the counter, giving Milo an over exaggerated knowing look. "You mean...on the docks? Do you know Zeph?"
And I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
SAMUEL
Base Code by Sky!
