[Maybe. Not really. Sometime with Silco he says things just to complain, to be contrary. As if being his little thorn will do much at all. For them, its a lover's game of knives and daggers. He finds himself enjoying it more than he should.]
[The smoke makes his nostrils curl from the acrid smell. A few more breaths, before he reaches up to pluck the cigar from his mouth. A kiss follows as if in payment, before he puts the cigar between his own lips, inhales with a rattling little noise.]
Hrm. [And now a puff of smoke from his lips. His voice is even more hoarse.] It tastes awful.
no subject
[Maybe. Not really. Sometime with Silco he says things just to complain, to be contrary. As if being his little thorn will do much at all. For them, its a lover's game of knives and daggers. He finds himself enjoying it more than he should.]
[The smoke makes his nostrils curl from the acrid smell. A few more breaths, before he reaches up to pluck the cigar from his mouth. A kiss follows as if in payment, before he puts the cigar between his own lips, inhales with a rattling little noise.]
Hrm. [And now a puff of smoke from his lips. His voice is even more hoarse.] It tastes awful.