fadda: (pic#14355372)
j. fadda ([personal profile] fadda) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet 2020-11-17 01:18 am (UTC)

me realizing this is in my emails a month later

Oh yeah? Is that how I look?

[ he takes the cigarette back from her, touching his mouth to the filter as he brings the pack out to offer her a spare. ( he's certain, though, that a woman like her is just as contented with a one-and-done — wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. ) his eyes appraise her, drinking in the sight of everything she has to offer, as they have been at a distance for the better part of the evening — she's not from around here; that little accent of hers only confirming what he'd suspected all along. one more lost girl out looking for trouble. ]

And you thought you'd come along, and — what, exactly?

[ it isn't said as curtly as it might be in the light of day. there's something weary underneath his words, a sort of stretched exhaustion that he's been feeling tighten around his neck since gaetano's return. ( he doesn't want to be home, but home is where he's most needed — what the fuck sort of ultimatum is that? ) ]

It's a little late for — whatever this is, don't you think? You want money? A place for the night?

[ more brashly now, harsh, on edge. he doesn't mean it. it's a mechanism josto knows better than any other. one that's more intimate, familiar. he needs that, now that his brother's back. he needs to know he's still in some kind of control. but before he can apologize, he crooks his fingers at the bartender who hurries over with a sweaty insistence. ]

Get her whatever she wants then fuck off.

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