[ if he has a dry retort (and he always does), he reserves it for now in favor of scrutinizing him, giving just a grunt to suggest he heard him as he reaches back inside his jacket to draw out the gun he had tucked away, tossing it aside just as unceremoniously. it doesn't stop there, though. he draws that canister of some clever gas q has worked up and sets it to the floor, nudging it away with his foot. he pushes himself up with a heavy sigh then, his dress jacket sliding off his shoulders in one motion and dropping, ]
It was what it was.
[ like that explains everything, but it's true. day in, day out, restless, just fucking and drinking like that might settle him into contentment but it never did and it still doesn't. the gun anchored to his arm is pulled off a little more impatiently and makes a distressing noise when it falls, like he might have compromised it but he doesn't seem to care, just unbuttoning the ends of his sleeves now to loosen them as he approaches.
look at him, bare as the day he was born, so to speak. a violent man with only his hands and yet when he's close, he doesn't stop, no, but moves to his thighs, careful and gracefully, then over, settling himself right there in his lap with a curious look. his hands drop, so very casually pulling his tie loose, the fabric pliant under his hands. ]
no subject
It was what it was.
[ like that explains everything, but it's true. day in, day out, restless, just fucking and drinking like that might settle him into contentment but it never did and it still doesn't. the gun anchored to his arm is pulled off a little more impatiently and makes a distressing noise when it falls, like he might have compromised it but he doesn't seem to care, just unbuttoning the ends of his sleeves now to loosen them as he approaches.
look at him, bare as the day he was born, so to speak. a violent man with only his hands and yet when he's close, he doesn't stop, no, but moves to his thighs, careful and gracefully, then over, settling himself right there in his lap with a curious look. his hands drop, so very casually pulling his tie loose, the fabric pliant under his hands. ]
Who says this is a thrill anyway?