RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
"It really can," Ronin agrees, his voice equally as soft. He'd lost some good friends along the way, and if part of the reason for his throwing himself into the mechanic game was to help overcome any trauma starting to bud, he's not telling anyone about it. He takes a measured sip of the whiskey even though he doesn't want to - home by dawn, remember - and gladly devotes his attention back to Looks and Talent at his side.
"No point in doing anything half-assed," he reasons with a grin. "I'll take the backstage pass, but you'll have to tell me what I'm in for." The innuendos are flying all over again, and Ronin can feel themselves almost trying to retreat back into awkward small talk. "...Before we ruin this accidentally, I need to ask how far you wanted to go...?" It sounds fucking stupid and he hates himself for it, but fuck if he can't stop himself now.
"Because I fucking... yeah. Is maith liom thú." He grins. "Means I like you. Am I charming enough to blot out the fight in the parking lot yet?"
"No point in doing anything half-assed," he reasons with a grin. "I'll take the backstage pass, but you'll have to tell me what I'm in for." The innuendos are flying all over again, and Ronin can feel themselves almost trying to retreat back into awkward small talk. "...Before we ruin this accidentally, I need to ask how far you wanted to go...?" It sounds fucking stupid and he hates himself for it, but fuck if he can't stop himself now.
"Because I fucking... yeah. Is maith liom thú." He grins. "Means I like you. Am I charming enough to blot out the fight in the parking lot yet?"
show me your darkness.
