Re: [B&B: Shiloh & Diego]
Stuck in a timeloop, that wasn't a bad comparison to the life Shiloh had lived. Isolated until he was old enough to find his own trouble, but by then he was formed into this young man sitting in a B&B brunch. He was young, but he was as old-fashioned as he was shockingly hedonistic, and he was unapologetic to boot. But he was alive as he could possibly be, and the description as the son of a plantation owner would've sent him rolling to the ground with ironic laughter.
He, himself, slouched. It wasn't truly mimicry or more invitation, but maybe it was somewhere between the two. Or maybe he'd just developed a habit of slouching at the table, seeing as it was dreadfully troublesome to Mother. His long legs extended too far beneath the table for politeness, and his thighs were wide spread. "I prefer grease to hair of the dog," he explained. It was a truthful response, and it was his reasoning for being here. As for why he chose here and not the diner: "I can't grow accustomed to diner eating. It makes me squirm, all those booths lined up and institutional feeling. Here, the tables are all spread out. It doesn't feel claustrophobic." Shiloh liked telling the truth, which maybe seemed out of a character for someone as prone to trouble as he was.
"I never asked why they called me Shiloh. I assumed no one would know," he said, and this was also truth, if cryptic. "But, thank you. Diego. I know that's Spanish, but I'm from over South, so I don't know what type. Excuse my ignorance." He reached across the table and took Diego's hand for a shake that was fair to middling and nothing truly unique in any way.