RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
Ronin opens his mouth to argue, before belatedly realising that the other man is absolutely right. Huffing out the breath instead and spreading his hands as if to say you got me, there's perhaps a twinkle of laughter in his eyes through the haze of booze and assholery. "Thanks, by the way," he says, very belatedly. "You didn't have to peel me out of that mess, especially when I started it."
He raises his eyebrows as if to ask what, exactly, they don't have in common - they're both into different flavours of shitfuckery, and as far as he can remember they're both damned good kissers. What else do you need?
More awkward insults, apparently. "Oi, I don't hate your band. I hate the music your band plays, except for one song. Which I don't reckon is anything to do with the band, for what it's worth." This is also leadingly said, and Ronin sits up a bit in his seat. "So why did you invite me back here?"
He raises his eyebrows as if to ask what, exactly, they don't have in common - they're both into different flavours of shitfuckery, and as far as he can remember they're both damned good kissers. What else do you need?
More awkward insults, apparently. "Oi, I don't hate your band. I hate the music your band plays, except for one song. Which I don't reckon is anything to do with the band, for what it's worth." This is also leadingly said, and Ronin sits up a bit in his seat. "So why did you invite me back here?"
show me your darkness.
