[ He ducks under the hut's doorway. Pretty cozy. He hasn't bothered relaxing in one, didn't really think about doing it, even though Charles and the others have. He's only scavenged a few things to take home: clothes, screws, matches and a lighter, some cigars (nice ones, for once).
And the booze. ]
Guess I'm not made for vacations. [ Not that this is one, but that's how the rest of 'em have been treating it. Can't blame them, either. He's just...got his mind elsewhere half the time. A responsibility for all the events he can't change right now, can't fix, can't do a fucking thing about.
But seeing her, it's nice to think about shit that's not the universe imploding. Nice to just notice how her eyes linger, and let his own do the same. He accepts the bottle, decides she doesn't look like she'll give a damn, and drinks straight from it before handing it back. Only when he perches on a fancy-looking ottoman does he tug his undershirt back over his head. ]
Out here kinda late. Thought you had work in the morning.
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And the booze. ]
Guess I'm not made for vacations. [ Not that this is one, but that's how the rest of 'em have been treating it. Can't blame them, either. He's just...got his mind elsewhere half the time. A responsibility for all the events he can't change right now, can't fix, can't do a fucking thing about.
But seeing her, it's nice to think about shit that's not the universe imploding. Nice to just notice how her eyes linger, and let his own do the same. He accepts the bottle, decides she doesn't look like she'll give a damn, and drinks straight from it before handing it back. Only when he perches on a fancy-looking ottoman does he tug his undershirt back over his head. ]
Out here kinda late. Thought you had work in the morning.