RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"Deal." For Ronin, he finds himself saying it before the other man can possibly take it back, and in the back of his head he's wondering what he might be able to leave at the apartment once he's taken his jacket back and-- stop it, the guy already showed you he isn't really interested, you dumbass. "You're in no position to start throwing hands about hair, sir," he informs him instead, scoffing at the mug of perfectly good coffee he's leaving behind. With his boxed sandwich in a paper bag that will probably half-dissolve in the rain, Ronin is ready to go.
But for one thing, apparently. "So?" He steps out of the way of the waitress, blinking at Bandcamp expectantly until it becomes clear that he's not going to get anywhere with it. So, in front of the doors, making sure to hold up the person trying to come in (they have to wait in the rain, oops), Ronin googles Sunset Patrol and finds the information he's looking for.
"After you, Remi," he snarks when he's finished.
But for one thing, apparently. "So?" He steps out of the way of the waitress, blinking at Bandcamp expectantly until it becomes clear that he's not going to get anywhere with it. So, in front of the doors, making sure to hold up the person trying to come in (they have to wait in the rain, oops), Ronin googles Sunset Patrol and finds the information he's looking for.
"After you, Remi," he snarks when he's finished.
show me your darkness.
