❝ i saw that, you totally peeked at my cards. ❞ myrna for barret 🥹
AROUND A TABLE TOO SMALL FOR HIS FRAME BUT JUST RIGHT FOR HERS, BARRET GUFFAWS — he chats, and wisecracks, and plays his worst game of cards to date. ain't the game he's playing, pot hasn't been sweet enough for him in a long time — the one he's playing and what he's after? same as always and he ain't the type to half-ass ; eyes always on target, hold her close with the arm thrown around the back of her chair. every time he gets a laugh out of her, or every time she makes that sound, the huff of air that says she's tryin' not to? it distracts him and he doesn't know ace from spade, can't find it in him to look away from her and to his cards, flinging them out haphazardly instead.
so yeah, he's playing a pretty shitty game of cards, but within their walls, in their dining room? HE'S A WINNER. he's so certain that's the case that when he leans back one of those times and is caught taking her in, all barret can do is laugh and correct her, free hand pressing to his chest earnestly, ❝ nah, ain't peekin' at your cards — not that hard up to win this chumps game, probably counting his goddamn cards anyway, like usual. ❞ jab to throw their friends off done to chuckles of amusement leaves him free to shift his weight so that he can place a kiss high on her brow, quietest his voice has been all night pressed into the skin there, just for her, this part of him, ❝ lookin' at you, baby. how 'bout that? ❞ ( but he wouldn't play that two he catches out of the corner of his eye. )
@dawnmantle , friendly fire .












