[ later, when this is all said and done, marta is going to blame it on the beers, the whiskey, the low golden light of the saloon bouncing off the flecked gleam in his eyes that won't stop looking at her like she's got answers to questions he doesn't dare give voice. he says her name like it's its own goddamn language, something sacred and secret just between them and it gives more of a rush to marta's head than a big gulp of whiskey ever could. it's good he's still holding her, even if it's just by the fingers tangled around the neck of that bottle; even standing still, she feels like she's on the verge of swaying, tipping over. or maybe it's just her natural response to the pull of his gravity again, the way he leans in has her already rising up to meet him halfway. and yes, her mouth opens to speak — but she's not sure she means to say what he needs her to to put a stop to all this, when marta's own breath catches in anticipation of what would happen next.
the sudden arrival of the saloon girl honestly feels like a slap on the wrist.
marta rocks back on her heels, ducks her head to look at the bottle like it holds the secrets of the universe. she mumbles a quiet thank you, muted and cordial, before holding out the bottle for her to take, finally dislodging her hands from kovacs' like the wake up call she's been needing.
she turns, meaning to reclaim her seat at the table, but the waitress' lilting voice carries over again, prompting marta to glance back just in time to see a saccharine-sweet smile, a wandering hand dancing up along the buttons of his shirt.
"It's nice t'see you again, detective... I missed you last night. Did you head on up straight into your room without stoppin' by t'see me?" ]
no subject
the sudden arrival of the saloon girl honestly feels like a slap on the wrist.
marta rocks back on her heels, ducks her head to look at the bottle like it holds the secrets of the universe. she mumbles a quiet thank you, muted and cordial, before holding out the bottle for her to take, finally dislodging her hands from kovacs' like the wake up call she's been needing.
she turns, meaning to reclaim her seat at the table, but the waitress' lilting voice carries over again, prompting marta to glance back just in time to see a saccharine-sweet smile, a wandering hand dancing up along the buttons of his shirt.
"It's nice t'see you again, detective... I missed you last night. Did you head on up straight into your room without stoppin' by t'see me?" ]