Zeph
The stranger takes your arrival with a good deal of grace, something that earns him credit in your books. Leaning back with a nod, you raise your glass of rum in a silent cheers. The remaining liquid pours down your throat with a delicious burn, and it isn't until the glass is empty that you clank it back onto the table, looking smug as sin.
"Zeph." You jut your chin at Mik as well, raising your fingers to indicate he should bring over two drinks. Returning your attention to Gideon, you fix him with a an idly curious look, eyebrows slightly raised. "You ain't from Torchline," you state, as casually confident as though you'd been remarking on the color of his shirt. "Enjoyin' yer stay?"
"Zeph." You jut your chin at Mik as well, raising your fingers to indicate he should bring over two drinks. Returning your attention to Gideon, you fix him with a an idly curious look, eyebrows slightly raised. "You ain't from Torchline," you state, as casually confident as though you'd been remarking on the color of his shirt. "Enjoyin' yer stay?"
you're not a bad person
for the ways you tried to kill your sadness
for the ways you tried to kill your sadness
