« — closed : @hellrisings — based on this
“ she said what ? ” the beer bottle stops halfway toward his mouth, hand drawing to a halt. green hues widen, bottle making a gentle thump against the wood of the table between them when he sets it back down. no, he must not have heard right. gaze cuts down to the beer, over to his friend's drink, before colliding with his once again. “ but–– ” orion stops, brows furrowing. he could have swore his brain was malfunctioning, rejecting this new information. “ it's, like … tradition or whatever. ”













