"You look as though you're about two drinks away from being maudlin and singing something you'll really regret," Sally said critically as she cast her shadow upon Leon, standing in the door and feeling confident in her SPF-Something-Infernally-High sunscreen that was going to keep her from earning more freckles (which might as well have been devil's spit). "What's going wrong?"
"I don't sing when I'm drunk. And I don't do things I regret," Leon said. He straightened just slightly, a curve of a smile coming to his lips despite the maudlin mood. "I make inappropriate passes at girls, and once at university I danced with one of said girls on top of a table and nearly fell off and killed us. But I don't regret that, either."
He made a face. "It's my birthday, if you must know. Bollocks, when did birthdays stop being fun?"
"Twenty-eight," Sally said critically with an air of knowledge about her, as though she had charted these precise calculations long, long ago. "That's when gravity starts becoming your personal enemy rather than just some vague concept out there. But I'm thirty-three," she said with disgust. "There's no hope for me now."
"It wasn't half so bad last year," Leon mumbled. Of course, last year he had been in London. Last year he hadn't found himself stuck wondering where his life was leading. He hadn't cared.
He arched a brow slightly. Generally Leon brushed off Sally's dramatic self-deprecation as a woman thing and lazily reassured her. But sometimes her melodrama merely baffled him. "Come on, Sally. What hope did you lose, then?"
He wasn't wrapped in colourful paper, there was no decorative lace holding him together, but otherwise, Guy could have been the expected birthday gift just by walking by as he did now. Not that he knew.
His hands in his pockets, a cigarette in his mouth and his thoughts miles and decades away, he walked passed a hut.
Leon straightened from his slouch as Guy walked by. Perfect. Honestly,he didn't much relish conversations with Burgess, considering how past ones had gone. It was a trial of having a 'twin' with odd friends.
But Leon had good reason to talk to him now. "Oi, Burgess!" he called out. "Stop a moment, will you?"
To Guy, antagonising came naturally. Being Julian's twin in appearance, he knew perfectly well he could unnerve the man simply by looking at him from across a room. But when there was urgency in his voice - as there was now - he could be perfectly uninterested.
"Oh, that's all the hello I get today?" Leon grinned, taking the few quick steps to catch up with him. If he had to pay for his liquor by setting himself up for a little bit of mockery, it would be a small price. "You don't happen to have any of that palm wine stuff handy, do you? Just for the sake of general curiosity."
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He made a face. "It's my birthday, if you must know. Bollocks, when did birthdays stop being fun?"
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He arched a brow slightly. Generally Leon brushed off Sally's dramatic self-deprecation as a woman thing and lazily reassured her. But sometimes her melodrama merely baffled him. "Come on, Sally. What hope did you lose, then?"
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His hands in his pockets, a cigarette in his mouth and his thoughts miles and decades away, he walked passed a hut.
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But Leon had good reason to talk to him now. "Oi, Burgess!" he called out. "Stop a moment, will you?"
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He turned to Leon and arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"
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