He really doesn’t want to deal with this right now, already sore and sour from the trip across the lake behind Rory, he’s hardly interested in having any sort of tough discussion with anyone, much less Sloane. But the last message he’d tried to send to them idles absent in the back of his mind. They deserved better than he gave her, and he really, at his core, doesn’t hate them- He just went so long unaware of how to care that it never made itself known. A lot’s changed, since the last time they traded blows and venom in the bedroom, and a not small part of that is the vampire departing to get something from his truck when October finally finishes his beer and decides to perhaps do something about the biting guilt that’s followed him the past few weeks.
He lets out a long sigh, pushes himself to his feet, and crosses to where the medium has settled for the event, hawaiian shirt depicting dogs that surely resemble his own hung around his shoulders to hide scars along his spine that she knows intimately even beneath the ink disguising them. “Hey, Sloane, you got a minute?” Blue eyes peer up over the rim of sunglasses, and for the first time perhaps ever, in the years since they’d met- he looks apologetic. “I um. I’d like to talk to you, is all.”