[ Gooseflesh down his back, he tipped his head to blow a long plume of smoke into the air. His fingers trail down his spine, picking out the individual bones there, a long life of subsisting on cigars, liquor, and drug injections instead of anything remotely healthy.
His arm relaxed, his cigar found the ashtray, and he stamped it out, before he reached over to brush his sweaty bangs out of his face. He thinks too few people do that, but he'll keep doing it, as if he can memorize every little fleck of color or change in them. He likes seeing the way they shift, or alter. A twitch of his lips. ]
Maybe we don't... [ A soft scoff. ] But I've never been one to reserve my judgment. I don't think you do either.
[ A sharp scrape of nail on his bicep, almost teasing. He knows the man is as salty as he is. ]
no subject
[ Gooseflesh down his back, he tipped his head to blow a long plume of smoke into the air. His fingers trail down his spine, picking out the individual bones there, a long life of subsisting on cigars, liquor, and drug injections instead of anything remotely healthy.
His arm relaxed, his cigar found the ashtray, and he stamped it out, before he reached over to brush his sweaty bangs out of his face. He thinks too few people do that, but he'll keep doing it, as if he can memorize every little fleck of color or change in them. He likes seeing the way they shift, or alter. A twitch of his lips. ]
Maybe we don't... [ A soft scoff. ] But I've never been one to reserve my judgment. I don't think you do either.
[ A sharp scrape of nail on his bicep, almost teasing. He knows the man is as salty as he is. ]