(no subject)
Sitting at the bar on a stool isn't a bad way to pass the time, especially over a cup of coffee. The ever-present pack of smokes and lighter are sitting there, but he's not smoking and hasn't in a month; it has less to do with his healing ribs than habit and pure stubbornness right now.
He's good at stubborn.
He thinks it's probably a good thing to take advantage of being able to get his ass down here whenever the hell he feels like it. Soon, that won't be an option, or else it'll be an option less of the time than it is now. So he sits with coffee and cigarettes and not a hell of a lot on his mind, except for all the shit that always plays through his thoughts like some runaway freight train. It's never really quiet in there.
He's good at stubborn.
He thinks it's probably a good thing to take advantage of being able to get his ass down here whenever the hell he feels like it. Soon, that won't be an option, or else it'll be an option less of the time than it is now. So he sits with coffee and cigarettes and not a hell of a lot on his mind, except for all the shit that always plays through his thoughts like some runaway freight train. It's never really quiet in there.