Re: Diner: 1AM-ish
See, it was funny, because Billy thought that the whole ‘bless your heart’ thing was the hallmark of good Southern boys. Maybe that was his Manhattan bias showing, though. Billy grinned and it hurt the edges of his mouth like his skin was so dry that it was already cracking, bleeding, and the hand that clutched at the bottle between his thigh and the edge of the booth trembled. “Oh, yeah,” he breathed out in agreement, nodding all emphatic, the repeated bob of his chin as he imagined anyone bigoted celebrating the beautiful slant of his mouth.
He watched the other guy shovel burnt hash browns into his mouth with unsubstantiated gusto, ketchup and potato and Billy leaned back on his side of the booth, slipping his newly-obtained Juul out of the breast pocket of his pleather jacket and sucking in several hauls.
“I ran. I’m a runner, I don’t like facing my problems. Tell me, Shiloh - is that a problem for you?”