[ The pads of Charles' fingers tap against the glass as Travis circles around to settle, the glance chasing after freeing up space for the other man to lean in. Careful not to knock his head back, he polishes off a stiff sip of liquor, letting the glass dangle loose in hand. ]
I like fast.
[ Murmur is met with his own voice pitched quieter, huskier as a result. It's in Charles' nature to immediate do things, to impose himself on interaction and wrangle control, but he pauses, this time, to let Travis find a pace. ]
no subject
I like fast.
[ Murmur is met with his own voice pitched quieter, huskier as a result. It's in Charles' nature to immediate do things, to impose himself on interaction and wrangle control, but he pauses, this time, to let Travis find a pace. ]