Dominik ignored the soreness that coursed through his body almost as well as he ignored the all-encompassing grief that was scattered among the thieves. He sighed as he approached the bar in the casino, ordering a bourbon with little fanfare. It was easy enough to encourage sympathy, especially where people lost their entire lives under the luminous lights. The bartender would just assume he was another man down on his luck (it had always been more common than one would think). Casinos had been (and still was to some extent) a novel for Dom as it had taken years for him to get used to the luxury of high-end tables due to his upbringing on faded green felt that had been softened through vigorous use.
While drinking was never the smartest idea especially on a job, Dominik needed something to distract him from the fire that burned every time he inhaled, the stitches straining like they wanted to break. The medicine at the hospital was wearing thin. He would just have to become accustomed to the pain again. He gave a slight nod to the bartender before taking a long drink. The alcohol slid down his throat in a habitual regard.
The stool next to him slid out and Dominik closed his eyes, willing them to go away. His thoughts were morose and he was unbalanced, off his game. He turned his whole body, wary of his injuries. The familiar face that stared across for him was a relief and a burden, reminding him he had a job to do. “Hello. What is it?” He inquired softly, not wanting to draw attention to their companionship.
