CAT GRANT: 20. SENDER INVITES RECEIVER TO DANCE WITH THEM, INSISTING, 'WHAT? THIS SONG'S PERFECT.'
ash blinked, one hand still wrapped around the neck of his beer, the other halfway to adjusting his busted up belt buckle. he looked at cat like she’d just spoken in a language he didn't understand — not offended, though slightly confused, and momentarily frozen in a way that suggested his brain had to reboot. 'the hell it is,' he said finally, squinting toward the jukebox as if the answer might be hiding there. some twangy, blues drenched classic hummed low under the bar’s chatter, the kind of song that only came on this time of night. 'this song’s about a guy gettin’ dumped and his truck breaking down. i’d hardly call that perfect, darlin’,' but she was already tugging at his sleeve, that unbothered grin of hers saying she wasn’t taking no for an answer. ash glanced around, not at the people, but the exits, like he was calculating if embarrassment was worth a fire escape getaway.
he sighed, running a hand through the mess of his mullet, then muttered, 'you know i got two left feet and one of ‘em’s always drunk, right?' still, he set the beer down, grumbling more for show than resistance, and followed her out into the sticky glow of the bar’s makeshift dance floor. 'alright, alright. but if i step on your toes, i ain’t liable. you brought this on yourself,' and damn if the way her eyes sparkled didn’t make him grin, just a little. maybe the song wasn’t so bad after all. @espurreso.
