“Krystal was our mission, there shouldn’t be more to discuss about her. So, how’s life back at the base soldier? got any more medals hung up your belt?” With a smile far milder than the brew in his hand, Rudy lifts a makeshift toast to his brother. quick to notice that the coffee’s gone long stale. It rolls off his tongue with the harsh flavor of the hot plate underneath the pot. Metallic, burnt, but it still pricks at the corners of his eyes to nudge them open. Setting himself back at the table, he bends a bleary, albeit obedient nod. “Have I? maybe you should report me back to mother while you’re at it ”
“I wasn't aware you dreamed about your missions. Rudy. Where else would I be hanging them from?”
Styles kept his stance rigid and and clean, hands behind his back as he arched his eyebrow over at his brother’s little toast. He was a solider though and though. He sometimes shared more in common with Paul than he did his own brothers in that regard. There’s a little shake of his head at those next words.
“ The last thing mother wants is an update on your sleeping patterns. Either of ours.. So perish the thought.”
There’s a pause as he takes a few steps closer, till he’s standing in front of his brother.
“Unless you want your marching orders to return home with me. Solider”
