RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"Well for starters, you didn't try to play on your own. You did play on your own, and you were very good," Ronin informs him. "Don't a lot of other bands give individual members a solo? Like the drummer and whatever?" He shrugs gently against Bandcamp. "Might be a better way of softening the blow - and shutting your critics up - before you play."
But honestly, Ronin doesn't fucking know shit, so Remi is more than welcome to laugh him off about it. As his hand is captured, though, he can't help but raise a brow, as if to silently question just what qualifies the other man to make such a statement. (He's Italian, is the answer - that's what qualifies him). "Well at least I said it right," he reasons. "And I'll take that as a yes, then. You can sit tight here and relax, and I'll order." Shifting to grab his phone, he finds the place they ordered from last time and dials them up, trying not to get distracted by the feel of fingers against his own.
But honestly, Ronin doesn't fucking know shit, so Remi is more than welcome to laugh him off about it. As his hand is captured, though, he can't help but raise a brow, as if to silently question just what qualifies the other man to make such a statement. (He's Italian, is the answer - that's what qualifies him). "Well at least I said it right," he reasons. "And I'll take that as a yes, then. You can sit tight here and relax, and I'll order." Shifting to grab his phone, he finds the place they ordered from last time and dials them up, trying not to get distracted by the feel of fingers against his own.
show me your darkness.
