WHO: Logan (
sixgoodreasons) and open
WHERE: The Tool Shed, a dive bar on the East Side known for its lenient attitude towards imPorted.
WHEN: 6th & 7th of July, late evening to early morning.
WARNINGS: Violence, language, drinking, country music.
SUMMARY: Just another Tuesday night.
FORMAT: Whatever feels natural.
(
it doesn't take a big man to knock somebody down / just a little courage to lift him off the ground )
But of course Jean had found him. Or maybe he'd found her. Wasn't that how it worked? Always waiting for each other.
Of all the bars in all the world, darlin', you gotta walk into mine.
By now he was onto the harder stuff, and it burned down the back of his throat even as he heard her heels click on the floor behind him. The sound of her voice was like a physical blow. His hand tightened on the bottle of whiskey, just a little. She sounded nervous. He couldn't blame her.
"You know better'n to ask that, Red," he replied, resisting the urge to glance up at her. Instead, he poured himself another shot.
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"Logan, you seem restless tonight." She eyed his glass, then stared at his hand as she spoke. "I was restless, too. Am. Am restless, I guess."
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