RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"Neither did I, if you must know. I wasn't even in the mood enough to finish myself off when I got home. I should have let you call me a cab," Ronin admits, thoroughly flustered now despite the easy sincerity of his words. It's not so much the admission but the way the man before him simultaneously ties him up in knots and brings out the razors in his tongue. "Yeah," he says of the other night. "And I know, I... it was a blur. A good blur. I felt like a cock afterwards, when I realised it was a one sided deal."
Clearing his throat and slowly approaching the counter to pretend to pay attention to whatever the fuck is happening to the coffee beans, he scoffs out a laugh. "I didn't," he confesses. "I only recently got back to the city. I think that night my head was still across the pond." Maybe he'd gone looking for someone like Remi without even realising it. And now here he is, caught with his pants down about it, except they aren't even.
"And what makes good beans?" he asks, with all the I don't have a fucking clue what's happening of an absolutely novice.
Clearing his throat and slowly approaching the counter to pretend to pay attention to whatever the fuck is happening to the coffee beans, he scoffs out a laugh. "I didn't," he confesses. "I only recently got back to the city. I think that night my head was still across the pond." Maybe he'd gone looking for someone like Remi without even realising it. And now here he is, caught with his pants down about it, except they aren't even.
"And what makes good beans?" he asks, with all the I don't have a fucking clue what's happening of an absolutely novice.
show me your darkness.
