[ His friends here are no laughing matter, and he praises them where they're due. But he's grateful that they don't linger on talk of ruling—his moods are tempestuous enough already. And the longer she stays, the harder it is for him to sit still, to keep his focus on smoking, talking, thinking (or anything that isn't blood, meat, bones—) but he responds stubbornly. He rubs at his eye with the heel of his hand, putting on a small, strained smile. ]
Sure.
[ Nevermind they might not even get to that point. He's okay assuming they will, for now. ]
no subject
Sure.
[ Nevermind they might not even get to that point. He's okay assuming they will, for now. ]
It's a date.