LOCKE
Oh. He gets to come back home with her, probably. He'll see where he ends up by the end of the night. As long as he plays his cards right, it won't be the barracks. She's made it pretty clear. He keeps pace with her, admiring the bit of leg he sees and the warmth of her arm in his. They must look like a pair. She's dressed to the nine's and he's well, Locke. If he'd known, he would've dressed maybe a bit nicer but nice isn't something he really has. She doesn't seem to mind.
He's never been to this bar, it always looked a little too bougie for him. It seems he was wrong though. "That's my favorite kind of girl, if I'm being honest." She lets him in first but he lingers behind her, his hand finding the small of her back as they walk. She seems familiar enough with this place that he lets himself look around as they walk.
He slides into the seat next to her's waiting for their drinks. "So, what kind of stories do you want to hear first? How I broke my nose the first time? How I got this scar? Oh? How about that time I accidentally ended up on a ship?" Will the stories he tells her be heavily embellished? Of course. Does he think she'll care? Not at all. After all, she asked for stories, not for facts.
He's never been to this bar, it always looked a little too bougie for him. It seems he was wrong though. "That's my favorite kind of girl, if I'm being honest." She lets him in first but he lingers behind her, his hand finding the small of her back as they walk. She seems familiar enough with this place that he lets himself look around as they walk.
He slides into the seat next to her's waiting for their drinks. "So, what kind of stories do you want to hear first? How I broke my nose the first time? How I got this scar? Oh? How about that time I accidentally ended up on a ship?" Will the stories he tells her be heavily embellished? Of course. Does he think she'll care? Not at all. After all, she asked for stories, not for facts.
I'm not gonna lie
I want you for mine
I want you for mine
