It might be a joke and it might be sarcastic, but that passes by his drunken mind as he peers blearily at Faraday, leaning forward and falling over himself, managing to prevent his face from slamming into the dust with the heel of his boot pressed firmly in. "You are," he agrees, too passionately. "No one would ever put up with me the way you do, because you, you're just as bad as I am," he says, letting his fingers flicker between the two of them.
He reaches for his cup to take another long sip, but then remembers it's empty. Making a whiny noise, he settles it behind him and lifts up his hat to run his fingers through his hair, scratching at the back of his head, like he's trying to remember something he'd meant to say, but then forgot.
Right, they're talking about their company. "Sometimes," he says, and at least on this bordering state of drunkenness, his English starts to slip. "Me gusta estar contigo demasiado. Se supone que no quiero esas cosas, sobre todo porque me matarías por ello, he rambles, waving his hand in lazy circles. Shoulders sloping forward, he has to remind himself to sit up straight, fumbling through his things so that he can find some of the day-old bread from yesterday, fingers fumbling to split it apart to offer the other half to Faraday.
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winterfish
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Date: 2017-10-03 10:31 pm (UTC)He reaches for his cup to take another long sip, but then remembers it's empty. Making a whiny noise, he settles it behind him and lifts up his hat to run his fingers through his hair, scratching at the back of his head, like he's trying to remember something he'd meant to say, but then forgot.
Right, they're talking about their company. "Sometimes," he says, and at least on this bordering state of drunkenness, his English starts to slip. "Me gusta estar contigo demasiado. Se supone que no quiero esas cosas, sobre todo porque me matarías por ello, he rambles, waving his hand in lazy circles. Shoulders sloping forward, he has to remind himself to sit up straight, fumbling through his things so that he can find some of the day-old bread from yesterday, fingers fumbling to split it apart to offer the other half to Faraday.