𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙡 𝙎𝙤𝙣

He poured a glass of whiskey and some kind of cocktail for himself bringing it over for him. "I would have to listen to judge. But if you can be shit and still sell it thats on the buyers."

"I will have a drink." As as if he was home he located such cabinets and started to mix. "Badstars? Thats an interesting name. Where does that originate from?"

because i don't want to go to jail, nor do i want to hurt anyone. too many people would lose an important job.

maybe not that far ——

He stepped inside, looking around the room with a curiosity in his eyes. "Not a lot. Up until recently I was considered a missing person. Grandmother believes i am unwell and has been holding me on a tight leash recently. And you? You look like a musician."

fuck corinium.

"She has a soft spot for the rebels. You aren't entirely surrounded by them but you mostly are. Leo. Can I come in?"

hm, she hesitates about to say no. but a bottle of liquor doesn’t sound awful about right now. she is always so busy that she never gets out. nor gets to really live her age. sure, why not. she’ll have couple drinks and chat.

"Neither. My grandmother likes to meddle and would not leave me alone until I agreed to introduce myself to "the nice young man down the road". So here I am."

oh, hush, less of that. what matters to me is that you’re happy, nothing else. though you’ll never catch me complaining about getting to see your face.

"... I'm not really Avon. But Matte would suit you more than glitter."

what is he thinking? she is down to for whatever, really. just needs to get out for a bit.

don't pretend to understand our relationship, you won't get very far. be a clever boy and behave. that's all i'm asking, i think i'm being rather amicable.