but you were on the ship,
[ Locked to madefromserum. And Love Was Born verse. Possible NSFW. ]
[ The bar isn't particularly busy and that's what she likes about it. Quiet jazz filters through old fuzzy speakers as Eames toys with her Martini glass, poking the olives at the bottom with a little despondent air. Tucked into a booth like this, she can watch the other patrons curiously through the fog that doesn't shift despite certain laws against smoke inside. It's almost nice to be nameless, really, to be something of a ghost against dark wood.
People mill in and about and she finds her gaze drifting once again to the man at the bar. He hasn't been drinking much from what she can tell, hair pushed back in an almost old fashioned style. She'd entertained brief thoughts about the taut muscled body beneath his shirt but there was something else about him that really caught her eye. He was watching people with an open, but shy, curiosity and something inside her ached for him. He had looked lost when a woman had come up to him, hit on him before deciding her time was better spent on the lawyer two stools over. Sophia had watched them become attached at the lip, thinking Ms. Prowler a fool for passing up the cute as a button guy.
She needs another drink for the fuzzy feeling to hit, unfolding herself carefully from her table and taking her bag and the empty glass over to the bar. The only free space is beside the sad looking boy, and she spares him a sidealong glance as she pulls herself on to a stool, waits for the bartenders attention. Sighing, giving up, she shifts slightly to the left. ]
Can I get you a drink? [ Addressing him, her voice comes out softer than she intends. He has the bluest eyes. ] Only you look like something horrible has happened and I sort of feel it's my civic duty to make you smile now.
[ The bar isn't particularly busy and that's what she likes about it. Quiet jazz filters through old fuzzy speakers as Eames toys with her Martini glass, poking the olives at the bottom with a little despondent air. Tucked into a booth like this, she can watch the other patrons curiously through the fog that doesn't shift despite certain laws against smoke inside. It's almost nice to be nameless, really, to be something of a ghost against dark wood.
People mill in and about and she finds her gaze drifting once again to the man at the bar. He hasn't been drinking much from what she can tell, hair pushed back in an almost old fashioned style. She'd entertained brief thoughts about the taut muscled body beneath his shirt but there was something else about him that really caught her eye. He was watching people with an open, but shy, curiosity and something inside her ached for him. He had looked lost when a woman had come up to him, hit on him before deciding her time was better spent on the lawyer two stools over. Sophia had watched them become attached at the lip, thinking Ms. Prowler a fool for passing up the cute as a button guy.
She needs another drink for the fuzzy feeling to hit, unfolding herself carefully from her table and taking her bag and the empty glass over to the bar. The only free space is beside the sad looking boy, and she spares him a sidealong glance as she pulls herself on to a stool, waits for the bartenders attention. Sighing, giving up, she shifts slightly to the left. ]
Can I get you a drink? [ Addressing him, her voice comes out softer than she intends. He has the bluest eyes. ] Only you look like something horrible has happened and I sort of feel it's my civic duty to make you smile now.