'that's /quite/ a confession. i thought you noble types worry more about that kinda' stuff. best buy me a drink first, pretty boy, and i'll think about it.' - desertbuilt ;^)
@desertbuilt.
“beg pardon?” the knight’s brows knit together, russet eyes alight with confusion. had he heard that right? lukas awkwardly glances over at the tavern keeper, who seems to be preoccupied with picking stray breadcrumbs from his beard, and presses his lips together in a thin, taut line. the man rarely even drinks---he’s just playing babysitter again, as indicated by his glass of well water sticking out like a sore thumb among tankards of ale.
“i think you may have read the situation wrong, but i’m not opposed to buying you an ale---” lukas offers jesse the same smile he offers everyone, kind enough but leached of liveliness. “so long as you intend to find your way back to your company responsibly, of course.”
