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[Sunday is not often one to enjoy unpredictable things. Having an invitation to meet with Gallagher at the bar he drinksmiths for is certainly an unpredictable thing. Usually, he would find unpredictable things to be ... quite annoying. All meetings and rendezvous should be properly scheduled and properly organized.
Yet, here he is. Walking towards the cozy dimly lit bar that many other Penacony goers visit. It's comfortably warm here. Like walking into a familiar friend's home. And that's not something Sunday often associates with.
He wanders up to the bar and taps gently on the counter...]
Yet, here he is. Walking towards the cozy dimly lit bar that many other Penacony goers visit. It's comfortably warm here. Like walking into a familiar friend's home. And that's not something Sunday often associates with.
He wanders up to the bar and taps gently on the counter...]
[ Gallagher is well-aware of Sunday's preferences for the expected, so to have him agree to a spontaneous invitation is surprising. Not that he's complaining, because it's not often one can say that they've managed to score an audience with this particular person so easily.
The bar is relatively quiet tonight, not too many patrons wandering in and out. It's better this way because it allows Gallagher to pay close attention to who he's serving currently and who's next. His gaze slide over to Sunday's approaching form even before the man taps on the counter.
He finishes up the drink he'd been working on for another customer, and then Sunday has his full attention. A pleased smile graces his features, his eyes crinkling. ]
There you are, birdie. Which one do you want first? Your cake or a drink on the house?
The bar is relatively quiet tonight, not too many patrons wandering in and out. It's better this way because it allows Gallagher to pay close attention to who he's serving currently and who's next. His gaze slide over to Sunday's approaching form even before the man taps on the counter.
He finishes up the drink he'd been working on for another customer, and then Sunday has his full attention. A pleased smile graces his features, his eyes crinkling. ]
There you are, birdie. Which one do you want first? Your cake or a drink on the house?
Hello, Mister Gallagher.
[The quieter atmosphere is something that Sunday appreciates. While he still feels the need to be on his guard more often than not, the bar being quieter than usual puts a margin of ease in him.
His eyes glance at the taller man and while he doesn't exactly smile there's a small nod of his head before he slips into the bar seat to sit.]
If we're to make the most of my time I think a drink first would be the appropriate thing to do.
[Sunday doesn't drink alcohol often, if at all. It's something that can hinder his senses and his thoughts and that is not something he enjoys. And yet, here he is. Another unpredictable thing.]
[The quieter atmosphere is something that Sunday appreciates. While he still feels the need to be on his guard more often than not, the bar being quieter than usual puts a margin of ease in him.
His eyes glance at the taller man and while he doesn't exactly smile there's a small nod of his head before he slips into the bar seat to sit.]
If we're to make the most of my time I think a drink first would be the appropriate thing to do.
[Sunday doesn't drink alcohol often, if at all. It's something that can hinder his senses and his thoughts and that is not something he enjoys. And yet, here he is. Another unpredictable thing.]
[ Gallagher's eyebrows raise a tiny bit. Huh. A surprising choice, really, because even if he's the one who offered it, he didn't expect Sunday to agree to have a drink in the end. Still, this makes him grin, pleased with the response nonetheless.
He reaches for a few bottles from underneath the counter and sets them up. ]
Then, I'll mix something up for ya. [ He also gets to show off, so that's always fun. ] Might wanna tell me now if you want something non-alcoholic or not.
[ Since he knows Sunday isn't the type to drink this stuff on the daily. ]
He reaches for a few bottles from underneath the counter and sets them up. ]
Then, I'll mix something up for ya. [ He also gets to show off, so that's always fun. ] Might wanna tell me now if you want something non-alcoholic or not.
[ Since he knows Sunday isn't the type to drink this stuff on the daily. ]
[He's surprised that Gallagher gives him the option. Well, if that's the case? He hopes for something that will go well with his cake.]
An alcoholic drink is fine. Nothing terribly strong, if you please.
[There's nothing wrong with having one drink, though.]
An alcoholic drink is fine. Nothing terribly strong, if you please.
[There's nothing wrong with having one drink, though.]
There is a law of physics that has become something of a common expression in our general lexicon. The saying is "what goes up must come down."
Just now, I've had the unique experience of both usages at once.
It seems flightless birds do not grow their feathers back after all.
Just now, I've had the unique experience of both usages at once.
It seems flightless birds do not grow their feathers back after all.
Then perhaps this particular bird is simply defective, because no matter how long it's been, he cannot accomplish anything he was born to achieve. Unable to protect, plucked bare and broken and laying in the rotten fruits of his failure.
Tell me, Mr. Gallagher. Where would you go from here?
Tell me, Mr. Gallagher. Where would you go from here?
This little bird might be too hard on himself. I've watched him accomplish many things, even if they weren't perfect— but there's beauty in perfection. I think this little bird just needs to see that.
If I were him, I'd keep moving forward as long as I can. He shouldn't take that for granted, you know?
If I were him, I'd keep moving forward as long as I can. He shouldn't take that for granted, you know?
Is there meaning in accomplishments, if the ultimate goal is still out of reach? Beauty only gets one so far when predators still lurk, hoping to sink their claws in meat and bone. It is an inevitability.
This bird can barely sit up to move, as it were. Come. Take the broken bird you so dearly wish to see fly once more.
[coordinates]
This bird can barely sit up to move, as it were. Come. Take the broken bird you so dearly wish to see fly once more.
[coordinates]
Even if it is an evitability, one doesn't need to deal with predators on their own.
I'm coming to get you. Stay put, birdie.
[ There are many things he could say at this point, but he can no longer bear to keep rereading Sunday's message because of how much it makes his heart ache. He also knows that he's breaking the rules. Someone like him should have heeded the curtain call even before ever receiving this man's plea for help, but he'll steal the time since he has to. Wants to.
He makes his way over to the specified coordinates without much fanfare. Dreamflux Reef is relatively empty after what happened at the Grand Theatre, no doubt most people choosing to wake up from this dream to deal with the aftermath in reality. The fact that Sunday hasn't...
Well, let's just say it makes him hurry up, looking all over the place until he finds the broken bird he wanted to see the most. ]
... Hey, angel. [ He crouches next to him, wanting to reach out but hesitating just in case Sunday doesn't want to be touched. ] You mind if I carry you back to my place?
I'm coming to get you. Stay put, birdie.
[ There are many things he could say at this point, but he can no longer bear to keep rereading Sunday's message because of how much it makes his heart ache. He also knows that he's breaking the rules. Someone like him should have heeded the curtain call even before ever receiving this man's plea for help, but he'll steal the time since he has to. Wants to.
He makes his way over to the specified coordinates without much fanfare. Dreamflux Reef is relatively empty after what happened at the Grand Theatre, no doubt most people choosing to wake up from this dream to deal with the aftermath in reality. The fact that Sunday hasn't...
Well, let's just say it makes him hurry up, looking all over the place until he finds the broken bird he wanted to see the most. ]
... Hey, angel. [ He crouches next to him, wanting to reach out but hesitating just in case Sunday doesn't want to be touched. ] You mind if I carry you back to my place?
[ Gallagher is already thinking along the same lines. Since Sunday will be having a strawberry cheesecake later on, he figures something lighter and less intense in terms of flavour profile will work best.
He picks out a few lemon wedges and drops them in a shaker, followed by bourbon, light syrup, some ice, and mint leaves. Shaking all ingredients together until they're nice and cool is what comes next, and when he pours out the drink, it's a nice golden yellow that's almost reminiscent of Sunday's eyes.
He tops it off with a mint sprig and a small straw before sliding it next to Sunday's hand. ]
Whisky Smash. The lemon notes should pair nicely with the sweetness and richness of your cake later on.
He picks out a few lemon wedges and drops them in a shaker, followed by bourbon, light syrup, some ice, and mint leaves. Shaking all ingredients together until they're nice and cool is what comes next, and when he pours out the drink, it's a nice golden yellow that's almost reminiscent of Sunday's eyes.
He tops it off with a mint sprig and a small straw before sliding it next to Sunday's hand. ]
Whisky Smash. The lemon notes should pair nicely with the sweetness and richness of your cake later on.
[he tucks away his phone after reading the last message. he's certainly putting a lot of trust in a man who definitely stabbed him, but... gallagher's all he has right now, with robin having woken up before impact. how he wishes to remain in her kind embrace, remind himself that she's safe from all harm, but she's currently in another plane of existence, somewhere where he is not.
he looks up when he hears footsteps, gives a weary little smile at the giant man who appears even larger when on the ground like this.] I don't have much of a choice either way.
[he closes his eyes. no, that's not right. he called for gallagher for a reason, him being the only one to call for not being that reason at all. he opens his eyes, his smile turning wry.]
Might I burden you one last time, then?
he looks up when he hears footsteps, gives a weary little smile at the giant man who appears even larger when on the ground like this.] I don't have much of a choice either way.
[he closes his eyes. no, that's not right. he called for gallagher for a reason, him being the only one to call for not being that reason at all. he opens his eyes, his smile turning wry.]
Might I burden you one last time, then?
Sure. One last time.
[ It's an apt choice of words, considering he'll disappear once he makes sure Sunday is safe and taken care of. Not that he knows how much time he has left, but he'll manage. First things first: assessing the damage on the other man, which looks pretty bad at first glance.
He murmurs an apology before he picks him up with his arms as gingerly as he can, holding him close so Sunday can rest his head against his shoulder if he wants. The man feels so light, as if he practically weighs nothing, and that's concerning on its own even if they're still within the dreamscape.
Once he's sure the man is secure in his grasp, he makes his way over to his apartment. It's a humble place, small and cramped just like the rest of Dreamflux Reef, but he never needed much space considering how much time he actually spent here. It's an interesting time when he attempts to open the door with Sunday in his arms, but he manages, waltzing over to the couch where he can slowly put the man down. ]
Hang tight. I'll see if I have anything to help fix you up.
[ He can't help but pet the man's feathery hair gently, a comforting gesture. And then he rises to a stand, intending to look around his stuff for anything resembling a first aid kit. ]
[ It's an apt choice of words, considering he'll disappear once he makes sure Sunday is safe and taken care of. Not that he knows how much time he has left, but he'll manage. First things first: assessing the damage on the other man, which looks pretty bad at first glance.
He murmurs an apology before he picks him up with his arms as gingerly as he can, holding him close so Sunday can rest his head against his shoulder if he wants. The man feels so light, as if he practically weighs nothing, and that's concerning on its own even if they're still within the dreamscape.
Once he's sure the man is secure in his grasp, he makes his way over to his apartment. It's a humble place, small and cramped just like the rest of Dreamflux Reef, but he never needed much space considering how much time he actually spent here. It's an interesting time when he attempts to open the door with Sunday in his arms, but he manages, waltzing over to the couch where he can slowly put the man down. ]
Hang tight. I'll see if I have anything to help fix you up.
[ He can't help but pet the man's feathery hair gently, a comforting gesture. And then he rises to a stand, intending to look around his stuff for anything resembling a first aid kit. ]
[on the way there, sunday allows himself the little bit of vulnerability to rest his head on gallagher's shoulder. there's hardly anyone else around, after all. people are waking up and leaving this dream world. somehow, despite sunday's entire plan revolving around people being safe and happy in this realm... there's some peace in the quiet and solitude.
he winces when he's set down and his wound jostles a bit. he looks around sunday's place, a little curious about the home of this man he's come to know. gallagher looks almost comically too large for his small apartment, but he also fills the space up nicely so sunday doesn't feel so--
--alone?]
Stabbing me one moment then tending to my injuries the next. Are you certain you're not the one who is a lunatic? [said somewhat -- casually? as casual as sunday can be. like he's not bleeding out on gallagher's couch.]
he winces when he's set down and his wound jostles a bit. he looks around sunday's place, a little curious about the home of this man he's come to know. gallagher looks almost comically too large for his small apartment, but he also fills the space up nicely so sunday doesn't feel so--
--alone?]
Stabbing me one moment then tending to my injuries the next. Are you certain you're not the one who is a lunatic? [said somewhat -- casually? as casual as sunday can be. like he's not bleeding out on gallagher's couch.]
[ Sunday's words succeed in making Gallagher feel even more tired, but he huffs softly in amusement regardless. ]
Then we can be both lunatics together.
[ The way he sees it, everything is over now. The Order's dream has been smothered, and Penacony is safe from its clutches, so he doesn't think there's any point in keeping up with hostilities. After all, he's the one who wanted to work together with Sunday to begin with. If it weren't for the Paths they both walked towards, then maybe things would be much different.
He shakes his head, grabbing a few cans of his favoured drink before taking a small box full of bandages and other things. One can is shoved at Sunday, and then he's gesturing for him to drink it. ]
Drink. It'll help.
[ He reaches for a roll of clean bandages before looking up at the other man. ]
I'm gonna have to see how bad your injuries are. May I?
[ Will Sunday be okay with showing off that much skin? ]
Then we can be both lunatics together.
[ The way he sees it, everything is over now. The Order's dream has been smothered, and Penacony is safe from its clutches, so he doesn't think there's any point in keeping up with hostilities. After all, he's the one who wanted to work together with Sunday to begin with. If it weren't for the Paths they both walked towards, then maybe things would be much different.
He shakes his head, grabbing a few cans of his favoured drink before taking a small box full of bandages and other things. One can is shoved at Sunday, and then he's gesturing for him to drink it. ]
Drink. It'll help.
[ He reaches for a roll of clean bandages before looking up at the other man. ]
I'm gonna have to see how bad your injuries are. May I?
[ Will Sunday be okay with showing off that much skin? ]
[sunday takes the drink somewhat quizzically, turning the can in his hands and wondering if it's just supposed to take the edge off. he's not really one to consume alcohol or anything... the thought of losing control of himself is Too Much of a terrifying thought. but gallagher presumably knows that about him, and the can doesn't say anything about alcohol... so...
he pops the tab open and drinks it. and remarkably, he does feel a whole lot better. as in- he feels his wound stitching up some, actually. interesting.
lunatics together, huh? he's not- he's not sure how that will work, considering gallagher's circumstance. will he just live in this dream world forever? after taking a few sips, he turns his gaze to the man in question. who then approaches him with a question.]
Ah- yes, of course.
[listen, they're not only both men, but gallagher is gallagher. sunday doesn't have to be pristine and perfect around him. he's already seen him at his worst, after all.
he tries to sit up, winces when he pulls at his clothes still stuck in his wound. but he braves through it and peels it off, folding it politely despite it being pretty much ruined. manners are important! even when you're half dying.]
This is the main injury. Apologies again for the trouble...
he pops the tab open and drinks it. and remarkably, he does feel a whole lot better. as in- he feels his wound stitching up some, actually. interesting.
lunatics together, huh? he's not- he's not sure how that will work, considering gallagher's circumstance. will he just live in this dream world forever? after taking a few sips, he turns his gaze to the man in question. who then approaches him with a question.]
Ah- yes, of course.
[listen, they're not only both men, but gallagher is gallagher. sunday doesn't have to be pristine and perfect around him. he's already seen him at his worst, after all.
he tries to sit up, winces when he pulls at his clothes still stuck in his wound. but he braves through it and peels it off, folding it politely despite it being pretty much ruined. manners are important! even when you're half dying.]
This is the main injury. Apologies again for the trouble...
No need to apologize. Let me take care of it.
[ Gallagher expected a few questions regarding the drink, but when Sunday drinks it obediently, he looks surprised for a split-second and then it melts into amused relief. If only Sunday listened to him before, then maybe a lot of this could've been avoided, and maybe he wouldn't be here tending to his wounds right now. Maybe someone like Robin could've looked after him instead, and that'll be the better ending for everyone involved.
Alas, this is the hand they've been dealt with, so they'll have to make do.
He watches wordlessly as the other man peels off his clothes with a few winces here and there, huffing once those clothes are folded neatly and set aside. But at least this makes it easier for him to look at how bad Sunday's injuries are, grimacing at the one he'd tried to hide earlier on.
The drink helps with the bleeding, so he gets to work cleaning up the wound, dabbing a soft cloth with lukewarm water before gently wiping away the dried blood. Once that's done, he wraps it with fresh gauze, calloused fingers working as carefully as he can to minimize discomfort.
He leans back when he's done. ]
Have another one of these drinks later. You should be as good as new after that.
[ Gallagher expected a few questions regarding the drink, but when Sunday drinks it obediently, he looks surprised for a split-second and then it melts into amused relief. If only Sunday listened to him before, then maybe a lot of this could've been avoided, and maybe he wouldn't be here tending to his wounds right now. Maybe someone like Robin could've looked after him instead, and that'll be the better ending for everyone involved.
Alas, this is the hand they've been dealt with, so they'll have to make do.
He watches wordlessly as the other man peels off his clothes with a few winces here and there, huffing once those clothes are folded neatly and set aside. But at least this makes it easier for him to look at how bad Sunday's injuries are, grimacing at the one he'd tried to hide earlier on.
The drink helps with the bleeding, so he gets to work cleaning up the wound, dabbing a soft cloth with lukewarm water before gently wiping away the dried blood. Once that's done, he wraps it with fresh gauze, calloused fingers working as carefully as he can to minimize discomfort.
He leans back when he's done. ]
Have another one of these drinks later. You should be as good as new after that.
[he stays still and silent while gallagher dresses his wounds, no matter how much it hurts, especially when he's cleaning out the grime and blood. by the time gallagher is done, sunday is breathing heavily despite having not moved, the pain robbing him of his breath.
he immediately takes another drink, pops it open, and downs it. the most inelegant that gallagher has ever seen him, honestly, but he thinks he can be afforded a moment of impropriety considering his situation. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand afterward, begging the drink to work its magic a little faster. he looks fucking haggard, to say the least. but, well-
-this is the price of ambition.]
...You were not lying when you said you wanted to cooperate after all. [he sinks back onto the couch, just marinating in his misery and letting the drink work to mend his flesh.] It would be a useless endeavor to do all this just to kill me, after all. You'd gain little from it - other than satisfaction, if your detestation runs deeper than your actions would suggest.
he immediately takes another drink, pops it open, and downs it. the most inelegant that gallagher has ever seen him, honestly, but he thinks he can be afforded a moment of impropriety considering his situation. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand afterward, begging the drink to work its magic a little faster. he looks fucking haggard, to say the least. but, well-
-this is the price of ambition.]
...You were not lying when you said you wanted to cooperate after all. [he sinks back onto the couch, just marinating in his misery and letting the drink work to mend his flesh.] It would be a useless endeavor to do all this just to kill me, after all. You'd gain little from it - other than satisfaction, if your detestation runs deeper than your actions would suggest.
[ It doesn't bother Gallagher that Sunday downs the drink in a manner that isn't so typical of him. If anything, it just shows that the man is the same as the rest of humanity— imperfect in many ways. The Hound even grows more fond of him, but he resists the urge to ruffle silvery blue hair because he knows Sunday might not appreciate that.
He stands up to put the cloth and small box away, still keeping up with the conversation since his space is not that large anyway. His voice carries through regardless. ]
Why would I lie about that? Your sister already chose to side with me, so I figured you would too.
[ In hindsight, that was his mistake for not considering the likelihood that Sunday might swerve a different way, but still he thought... ]
Besides, killing you is the last thing l want. I'd rather you wake up from this dream instead.
[ By the time he says this, he's standing right in front of Sunday again, a small smile on his lips. ]
You should get yourself looked at in reality if you're hurt this badly here.
He stands up to put the cloth and small box away, still keeping up with the conversation since his space is not that large anyway. His voice carries through regardless. ]
Why would I lie about that? Your sister already chose to side with me, so I figured you would too.
[ In hindsight, that was his mistake for not considering the likelihood that Sunday might swerve a different way, but still he thought... ]
Besides, killing you is the last thing l want. I'd rather you wake up from this dream instead.
[ By the time he says this, he's standing right in front of Sunday again, a small smile on his lips. ]
You should get yourself looked at in reality if you're hurt this badly here.
[he's a bird, not a dog like you, gallagher! treat him with some delicacy!!! ...outside the bedroom, of course. but they're not quite to that point yet. sunday doesn't even realize that that point exists between them, that it's a possibility, so caught up with his ambition and goals as he was. he'd had stray thoughts, sure, but he was quick to reign them in, to recenter himself to the ultimate goal.
and well, now that goal is shattered.
robin is far too trusting. sunday knows it's not really fair to think of his beloved sister that way, but he's had to for her protection. even then, she nearly got killed- and she could again-
he shakes his head. breathe. she's fine- or she better be.]
Allow me to stay just a little longer. [his eyes stray downward, then hurriedly back up. get that out of his face gallagher, god!!!] I- don't want to face reality just yet. And I don't mean the consequences of my actions. [but the reality of his ambitions laying to ruin. that he can't keep everyone safe and happy in their little cages after all.]
I imagine you'll want company anyway, yes? What happens to you, after all this?
and well, now that goal is shattered.
robin is far too trusting. sunday knows it's not really fair to think of his beloved sister that way, but he's had to for her protection. even then, she nearly got killed- and she could again-
he shakes his head. breathe. she's fine- or she better be.]
Allow me to stay just a little longer. [his eyes stray downward, then hurriedly back up. get that out of his face gallagher, god!!!] I- don't want to face reality just yet. And I don't mean the consequences of my actions. [but the reality of his ambitions laying to ruin. that he can't keep everyone safe and happy in their little cages after all.]
I imagine you'll want company anyway, yes? What happens to you, after all this?
[While Gallagher is working Sunday is watching him carefully. His eyes watch each little movement of his fingers, how his arm tightens when he shakes the metal container, how Gallagher's expression might change while he works...
When the glass is slid across to him he examines it for a moment without touching it. Amber yellow, hm?]
It seems you are a master at your craft.
[He takes the little straw in his fingers and swirls it just slightly but he doesn't sip it yet. Maybe like a bird might pick at something before it tries it.]
I would like to ask you something.
When the glass is slid across to him he examines it for a moment without touching it. Amber yellow, hm?]
It seems you are a master at your craft.
[He takes the little straw in his fingers and swirls it just slightly but he doesn't sip it yet. Maybe like a bird might pick at something before it tries it.]
I would like to ask you something.
[ To spare Sunday from the torture of looking at his cock (up close and personal), Gallagher kneels before him, reaching out with one hand to grasp him by the wrist. Mostly to remind him that whatever bad thoughts he may be having right now, this Hound is here to protect him from the worst of it. To remind him that he isn't alone, and will never be for as long as Gallagher still exists. ]
You'll have to face it eventually, but you're welcome to stay here until then. For as long as you need.
[ Now it's his turn to look down, sunset eyes unable to meet Sunday's golden ones while he thinks about his own future. ]
... You already know that I'm a minion of Enigmata, that I'm made up of several parts from others who exist. I'm not real, technically, so I'll be out of your hair soon enough.
You'll have to face it eventually, but you're welcome to stay here until then. For as long as you need.
[ Now it's his turn to look down, sunset eyes unable to meet Sunday's golden ones while he thinks about his own future. ]
... You already know that I'm a minion of Enigmata, that I'm made up of several parts from others who exist. I'm not real, technically, so I'll be out of your hair soon enough.
[thank the great one that he's finally free of gallagher's oppressive package. he can breathe a silent sigh of relief. but he is then - touched, his wrist taken into gallagher's hold, a light shiver originating at the point of touch. it's grounding, which he sorely needs, especially upon hearing gallagher's explanation.]
What do you- you're going to disappear?
[he frowns at that. gallagher may have stabbed him (sunday isn't bitter about that, he swears), but he's still... he's here by his side, warm. and that means something. he isn't sure where to direct his own gaze either, so he just lets it drop to his held wrist. held in gallagher's warm, solid hand. how could someone who exists here and now - just cease to be?
he supposes it makes sense. gallagher wasn't supposed to be here. isn't supposed to exist. goes against the natural order of things.
but then why do his wings fold at the very thought?
why does everything eventually get taken away- he looks up, now.]
Many more fantastical things have occurred in this great universe than the inorganic becoming organic. If you're merely going to disappear, then why do you form thoughts as any other? If you are just pieces scraped together, then how is it that you are unable to meet my gaze?
For a man doing so much for my own sake, why do you give up so easily on yourself?
What do you- you're going to disappear?
[he frowns at that. gallagher may have stabbed him (sunday isn't bitter about that, he swears), but he's still... he's here by his side, warm. and that means something. he isn't sure where to direct his own gaze either, so he just lets it drop to his held wrist. held in gallagher's warm, solid hand. how could someone who exists here and now - just cease to be?
he supposes it makes sense. gallagher wasn't supposed to be here. isn't supposed to exist. goes against the natural order of things.
but then why do his wings fold at the very thought?
Many more fantastical things have occurred in this great universe than the inorganic becoming organic. If you're merely going to disappear, then why do you form thoughts as any other? If you are just pieces scraped together, then how is it that you are unable to meet my gaze?
For a man doing so much for my own sake, why do you give up so easily on yourself?
Edited 2024-05-31 04:36 (UTC)
[ If anything, Sunday might notice he seemed fond while he mixed the drink earlier, but that's not something he'll elaborate on if ever asked. A smile is present on his face when he's praised, always appreciative of compliments like that because mixology is something he's good at.
He will be watching Sunday in return, mostly to see if he'll even like the drink he's made for him. ]
Oh? A question just for me? Ask away.
He will be watching Sunday in return, mostly to see if he'll even like the drink he's made for him. ]
Oh? A question just for me? Ask away.
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