(Untitled)
From what she can tell, it looks like there's something going around - and she is not about to catch it any time soon.
She's sitting down on one end of the bar, keeping an eye on anyone who so much as coughs.
She's only appearing downstairs to order a bottle, and then she'll be returning to her room to enjoy it - most likely alone.
She's sitting down on one end of the bar, keeping an eye on anyone who so much as coughs.
She's only appearing downstairs to order a bottle, and then she'll be returning to her room to enjoy it - most likely alone.
Comments 9
When she appears, he's in the process of undoing the wires binding his hands. By some mercy, there's no blood on him, although there's a razorblade sitting on the counter, blood on the edge, that the bar seems to refuse to take.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he says, grinning as he gets rid of the last of the wire.
"Once again, sittin' pretty all by your lonesome."
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One brow lifts, but she's not going to say anything in regards to it.
(Not yet, anyway.)
"Not for long," she murmurs, as the bottle appears by her elbow. She picks it up, brandishing it in front of her.
"It'll be this and me tonight."
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"Ain't that a hell of a lot for a little thing like you?"
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Her gaze moves to his wrists.
"Though I wouldn't say no to sharing."
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