milliways_bar

[shortofcrazy]

When Riley comes downstairs, he's wearing a backpack, dragging a suitcase, and carrying a box, with a heavily-weighted paper shopping bag dangling from a forearm as he makes his swift, awkward way to and through the door, his head down

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[howling_laugh]

"Leaving so soon?" It's rather quiet in the main room of the bar. It doesn't happen often, but at odd hours of late night/early morning, after happy hour and before breakfast...

Coyote is sitting at the bar, smoking a cigarette.

[shortofcrazy]

It's quiet. Coyote's voice carries even in a crowded bar.

Riley pauses, and then he turns around, his hands in his pockets. "Yeah," he says, and his voice is only a little rough. "Going home for a while." He doesn't take a step toward her.

[howling_laugh]

Her eyebrows raise at his expression. Her original tone was teasing, she now looks curious. "Who pissed in your cornflakes, Riley Poole?"

[shortofcrazy]

"I don't like cornflakes," he says, half-heartedly. He scuffs a shoe. "I'm more of a pancake man."