“ YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE I CAN TRUST. ” @hammurabicomplex . ( sentence starters; accepting )
in the glittering lights of the infamous city that sits gregariously before him, ira supposes he looks quite different to the man who first arrived here to see her, mere weeks ago. las vegas isn’t exactly the sort of place he’d envisioned himself in, in all truth; he had more openly resigned his world to duller, quiet corners, isolated structures or lonely flats, solitary peeling leather armchairs, unloved exceptions to humanity to wallow in. needless to say, it’s with a great surprise to him that he finds himself enjoying it this much. one unknowing of his nature would simply see a handsome patron of the summers that sin city has to offer, with a sharp suit, and an even sharper gaze; perhaps a gambler, a business man, perhaps anything. ira finds himself somehow fond of this anonymity, this slip of something unwary. if vegas is good for anything at all, it seems to be an excellent spot to reinvent yourself.
it’s pat’s words, however, that commit his attention, and tug forward his focus. he peers at her with an expression somewhere sauntering between gratitude and pride. “ i can’t be the only one, surely ? ” he queries; a front enough to hide some of the softer ways in which it connects him to her, separates them from the space they share. he looks very 007 with that vesper martini in his hand; and what a pair they must make together. under a small, meaningful smile, “ ... does it help if i said the feeling is mutual ? ”