[B&B: Shiloh & Diego]
Morning was not Shiloh's cup of tea. When he was young, it had been just one other way to torment Mother, but it had been something that came blissfully naturally. There was something to be said for annoying tendencies that didn't require a lick of work behind them. And likely that showed as he reached for the back of the chair to tug it out, if and when he was issued an invitation. The powder up his nose, which he brushed away the remnants of with his sleeve, gave him some up, but not enough to take the tired from his eyes. Whereas the man slouching in the chair opposite looked well into his food and much more awake than Shiloh figured he'd ever been before 4 pm.
Once the other man gestured to the chair, Shiloh draped his jacket along the back, and he sat. He needed to go acquire some coffee, a lot of coffee, but in a moment. "You keep on slouching," he told him with a hint of old South in his voice, the type that brought to mind Gone With The Wind and old debutante balls. "If I didn't think the slouching was interesting I would've passed this table right on by," he explained with that bluntness that Heath always said put people off. But Shiloh had made a life of putting people off, and now the words just tumbled from his lips slow and like tumbleweed on a day of little wind.
He glanced at the breakfast plate the man, Diego, was nudging to safety, and he smiled. Now, Shiloh could be terribly charming when he wanted to be, and the smile he gave Diego was a charming one. "Diego, thank you for sharing your breakfast space with me. See, I don't know anybody in town, and I hate eating alone," he said, and it was a true statement. Shiloh did hate eating alone, and that was another thing to be blamed on a family of adopted orphans brought up with no real outside influence and no love but their own to cling to.
He pushed riotous curls from his forehead. "I'm called Shiloh. Shiloh Foster, and I'm new around these parts."