[ it's a little thing but in her mutter of a nickname she's thrown his way more than a few things in the long stretch of hours they've had in each other's company, he realizes the way he tends to enjoy her use of the language, how an evident accent seems to carry the words of her native speech so smoothly off her tongue, almost like they were created just to be spoken by her.
when she taps at his cigarette, his teeth scrape against the damp end pressed to his mouth, inhaling a deeper high of the nicotine before his tongue feels dry, likely from the thirst for another gulp of whiskey.
plucking the stick from his lips, he blows out the smoke slowly, gaze still transfixed. the mention of the music reminds him that he's barely even been listening to it in the last minute. ]
Figured you were just feeling the whiskey. [ that's all it is, he tells himself. ] Or you've done a hell of a job in hiding those moves.
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when she taps at his cigarette, his teeth scrape against the damp end pressed to his mouth, inhaling a deeper high of the nicotine before his tongue feels dry, likely from the thirst for another gulp of whiskey.
plucking the stick from his lips, he blows out the smoke slowly, gaze still transfixed. the mention of the music reminds him that he's barely even been listening to it in the last minute. ]
Figured you were just feeling the whiskey. [ that's all it is, he tells himself. ] Or you've done a hell of a job in hiding those moves.