confiscated: (⇀ from calloused hands)
Brooks Myers ([personal profile] confiscated) wrote in [personal profile] bloodprayer 2018-11-29 05:39 am (UTC)

Well that's fucking weird.

[Tate says, disappearing behind the fridge door after opening it. He doesn't seem fazed, returning to the couch with two bottles after uncapping them. He holds one out to Michael, but doesn't let go of it easily. Not before first saying one thing:]

Yes or no; you want this beer, right?

[Tate's just - slightly irked by the indecisiveness, realizing in the moment that it's going to get fucking annoying soon. He'll let go of the bottle if Michael answers yes, plopping back down to sip on his own and feed the buzz he has going with a moment of quiet before snickering.]

Don't worry about Jack. Don't think that'll kill him.

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