whiskey, smoke and aces high

It's too bad. When did it get cool to be so sad? We're spinnin' backwards, did we all go mad?
Yeah, we're only human but w?'ve got hands and hearts and noses,
So stop and sm?ll the fucking roses

"I know that, yes." Remi says with a studious nod. "I also know that I saw you nearly lick the pavement tonight, compliments of a guy who smelled like he lives in Abercrombie and Fitch."

He was kidding earlier, but now he really can sense the charm, and it warms him in a way that all the alcohol and lingering drugs in his system can only masquerade at. "Aww, and here I thought we wouldn't have anything in common." Like with much of their conversation thus far, this has a grain of truth in it as well.

So as Ronin runs his tongue along his teeth, Remi finds himself thoroughly unprepared for the words he says next, or the effect they have on him.  "Lucky me." The words all but stumble out of his mouth; he means it as a response to the phone number comment, but wants it as a response to the latter question. 'Well. Good." Smooth. So smooth. Remi can feel his cheeks flushing, and they've been drinking too long for him to be able to blame it on the alcohol. "I mean, you hated my band so, glad to hear I haven't fully disappointed." It's more leadingly said than it is flirtatious. Though it would be easier to just come out and say, hey I'm gay btw, that seems too terrifying. So instead, he supposes, he'll just keep insulting the incredibly rugged soldier sitting just a foot away from his bed and hope for the best.

ThE RoCkStAr