8th October, 2022; late night/early morning || @eilidhodea
There’d been plenty of times over the past ten or so years where Rune had genuinely considered telling Eilidh everything. Separation of church and state was comforting to a degree — he enjoyed being able to pretend at a normalcy with her that he couldn’t with Malachi, or even Zoya — but there were also nights when Rune didn’t feel like hiding what was on his mind.
The feeling had passed, though, as it always did. Someday it wouldn’t, but that day wasn’t today. As it was, Eilidh was only aware of the failing health of Rune’s foster father as the source of his sour mood tonight. That being said, he probably could’ve just told her his hamster died and she would’ve rolled out the same level of enthusiasm to turn the night around, and that was what he always appreciated about Eilidh.
Hours and drinks and maybe a couple of pills in, and Rune was taking up far more space in the circle booth than strictly necessary with languid limbs and one arm draped around Eilidh’s shoulders — its usual, comfortable settling spot. His fingertips itched for a cigarette, but that would involve getting up.
“There’s a woman in the far corner who seems to have more money than sense,” he murmured with obvious amusement. “And she keeps looking this way, but I can’t tell if it’s more for me or for you.” They both had their own strange little niche of fame, or maybe infamy. For Rune, at least, it was a fun game to play while they were out together: which of them might someone be brave enough to approach first.