whiskey, smoke and aces high

RONIN

the darkstar

light is easy to love.

"And you still texted me first," Ronin snarks back, because apparently yes, they have landed on the fuck you square, and just because Remi has OD'd his way out of the trip they were both really looking forward to, it doesn't erase Ronin's weekend-long hurt of thinking he'd been stood up. "Have you fucking met yourself?" he asks, as if it should be obvious what his problem is.

"Since I've known you, you've spent more time insulting the way I make my coffee or my taste in food or the clothes I wear or the dishes in my apartment than any real conversation. I was looking forward to seeing if there was more than just bitchiness to your day to day, and now I'm standing in a fucking hospital room while you laugh off an overdose and smoke out the window." It all spills out quite without his permission, and Ronin wants nothing more than to reel it all back in. Alas.

"Sorry?" He raises his eyebrows as, of all the things going on right now, it's his quip about the view that Remi takes issue over. "Am I meant to be in awe of the slate grey architecture or something?" There's no lightening the mood from here, clearly, so he keeps his mouth shut and sets the cigarettes and the lighter down on the window sill.

show me your darkness.

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!