------continued from here.
HE'D HEARD EVERYTHING that had to do with what he was a thousand times before . sometime between now and when he finally hit the grave he'd probably hear it at least a thousand times more , but lee rolled easy with the punches . he always did . life was too fucking difficult to take so seriously ( and he'd had enough seriousness in those first few decades to last him the rest of however fucking long he was stuck here , anyway ) . for now he'd settle for the brisk laugh of a beautiful woman , despite how self - deprecating his joke was . it was the little things .
as far as léon antonio sepúlveda castillo went , he was nothing but a red flag . scars that told of his misgivings , sad eyes that covered themselves with glittering mischief in hopes nobody would notice , smiles that were all teeth --- the better to grip with , my dear ... he smelled of leather and gun oil , looked like the nightmare man of any suburban mom's greatest fear for their daughters to date ( while secretly hoping he'd whisk them away instead ) . one big , red flag . he was all right with it .
moe herself wasn't the beacon of a good girl , either . it's what he liked about her - the tattoos , the piercings , the dark lipstick and eyeliner . the goth phase she never seemed to grow out of , the way she smelled like bad ideas and smoke . it'd been a long time since he'd acted on a bad idea . he was overdue .
" sit , stay , shake , speak . do little tricks if you offer a treat in exchange . " all teeth , that grin of his . there was no way it could get wider . " good - enough . but you have to rub my belly if i do . " @pseudowar
