fingers drum against jean clad thigh ─ firmly pressed lips biting back response, she's seen him bullshit through plenty fumbles & fails. some god given talent for talking in circles. fragmented run on sentences butchered with oi's & fuck's, & enough cunt's to make nun's recite prayers with three hail mary's. brows pucker together dotting forehead in furrows aplenty ─ the contents of her wine glass hold more appeal than whatever he's gearing up to say. she glances at it, notes that it's been drained near to the bottom & sighs. ❝ bottle. ❞ directly behind his left shoulder, wine doesn't feel enough but she's become more mom than woman. no hard liquor around kids ─ a glass at the end of every day is her limit.
figures he'd drive her to completely forget that rule. ❝ you give me some bullshit run around on i will use it on you. ❞ wasting decent vintage would be a pity, she's learned to never be above using what's within reach. ❝ in simple words explain to me how you plan to do that. ❞
║▌│ ¸♥¸ ˚｡⋆ ↪ @supbutcher said: let me make it up to you.