When Vasquez returns the table, Faraday still seems to be almost sulking, eyes narrowed and eyebrows knit together, as though in disapproval. He brushes his fingers across his cheek at Vasquez's prompting, and when his fingers come away red, he lets out a humorless sort of laugh, wiping the rest of it away.
"I was gonna introduce you two," Faraday says, words sliding out of the side of his mouth as he frowns. "Doubt I'll bother, if you're gonna seem so surly about it."
It doesn't slip his notice, the way Vasquez's attentions keep returning to the bartender, and Faraday feels that bitter twist in his gut again for it – an emotion he can hardly identify, except for how little he likes it.
When Vasquez pours out the glasses, Faraday pulls his own closer toward himself, his mood darkening with each word that slips from Vasquez's lips. Another of those insulting nicknames, except Faraday sees the way the bartender perks up at it, like some dog who's heard its master shape its name. When he comes over, Faraday gives the other man a considering look, almost sizing him up, but his eyes snap to the way Vasquez squeezes the other man's arm.
That bitter curl flares to life, and Faraday glares first at the barkeep's retreating back, then to Vasquez, with that stupid smile curling his lips. When the other man is out of earshot, Faraday forces his expression to smooth out, looking down at the glass of whiskey instead of Vasquez.
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winterfish
no subject
Date: 2017-12-11 09:45 am (UTC)"I was gonna introduce you two," Faraday says, words sliding out of the side of his mouth as he frowns. "Doubt I'll bother, if you're gonna seem so surly about it."
It doesn't slip his notice, the way Vasquez's attentions keep returning to the bartender, and Faraday feels that bitter twist in his gut again for it – an emotion he can hardly identify, except for how little he likes it.
When Vasquez pours out the glasses, Faraday pulls his own closer toward himself, his mood darkening with each word that slips from Vasquez's lips. Another of those insulting nicknames, except Faraday sees the way the bartender perks up at it, like some dog who's heard its master shape its name. When he comes over, Faraday gives the other man a considering look, almost sizing him up, but his eyes snap to the way Vasquez squeezes the other man's arm.
That bitter curl flares to life, and Faraday glares first at the barkeep's retreating back, then to Vasquez, with that stupid smile curling his lips. When the other man is out of earshot, Faraday forces his expression to smooth out, looking down at the glass of whiskey instead of Vasquez.
"See you've made a friend."