[ββthe people I care about,β and Stiles isnβt fast enough to raise his own beer, expression twisting under the bitter dredges of still recent hurts. He drinks, each hard swallow spilling into an empty stomach that roils with unresolved acidic anger. For a brief moment, he envisions Scottβs face splitting beneath his fist, the bright bloom of fresh blood exploding at the contact. It doesnβt help.]
Guess thereβs something special about you. [His icy grief isnβt meant for Cyram. When Stiles tries to offer the man a wan smile, itβs at least an honest one.] I mean, cβmon. Most people canβt even manage the βforeverβ that comes attached with a wedding ringβand thatβs like, under a single century.
[Beer finished, he pushes it asideβbut toward the wall, so as to not encourage a refill. While he has no problem shooting the breeze with Cy, he doubts he can handle more alcohol without food first.]
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Date: 2024-01-24 09:25 pm (UTC)Guess thereβs something special about you. [His icy grief isnβt meant for Cyram. When Stiles tries to offer the man a wan smile, itβs at least an honest one.] I mean, cβmon. Most people canβt even manage the βforeverβ that comes attached with a wedding ringβand thatβs like, under a single century.
[Beer finished, he pushes it asideβbut toward the wall, so as to not encourage a refill. While he has no problem shooting the breeze with Cy, he doubts he can handle more alcohol without food first.]