Hm. Well, if he knows what's best he'll stay the hell away.
( He'd sound angrier, if he weren't so bloody exhausted. Instead all his bitter rage has been drowned out by alcohol and circumstance. So he drains the rest of his drink, lets the glass settle on the counter with a clumsy thunk. Then he's rising. He's not quite steady on his feet, but he's put a lot of practise in pretending otherwise.
Charles pushes the stringy parts of his hair back from his eyes with the flat of his hand, glances at Raven again. )
no subject
( He'd sound angrier, if he weren't so bloody exhausted. Instead all his bitter rage has been drowned out by alcohol and circumstance. So he drains the rest of his drink, lets the glass settle on the counter with a clumsy thunk. Then he's rising. He's not quite steady on his feet, but he's put a lot of practise in pretending otherwise.
Charles pushes the stringy parts of his hair back from his eyes with the flat of his hand, glances at Raven again. )
Do you need a hand?