RONIN
Ronin bounces his eyebrows right back at the bartender, though he's much too busy with the bottle against his lips and the woman between his legs to offer her much of a description right now. Maybe later, when he's a little more sober and a little less... everything else. Setting the bottle down and peering over the white-clad woman's shoulder (definitely not looking at her shoes), Ronin tuts and holds her just so, that she might remain oh-so-precariously pitched forward.
With blue eyes suddenly a lot darker in the dim light of the brothel, he eventually draws her up to standing again, relieving her from her duties between his legs. "Perhaps you ought to get some better shoes," he suggests, gaze dipping lower to plunge down into her cleavage. "It might help you with your clumsiness."
With blue eyes suddenly a lot darker in the dim light of the brothel, he eventually draws her up to standing again, relieving her from her duties between his legs. "Perhaps you ought to get some better shoes," he suggests, gaze dipping lower to plunge down into her cleavage. "It might help you with your clumsiness."
one more wish for you
