Charlie / Rodeo / Open
Though Charlie was always a challenge, Rodeo had a special sort of fondness for her sour moods. He loved the venom in her, loved the way her angry eyes looked at him when she was pissed. He found her anger beautiful, and he always loved the reward of bringing her around and worming his way back into her good graces. Perhaps it was a little crazy to find her bad moods a turn-on, but her biting comments always made him laugh and he was wild enough about her that even at her bitchiest she still captivated him entirely. When she approached him with that pretty glare and angry scowl his grin only widened, and it was clear that he was loving every moment of her annoyance.
Rodeo had been ready to get her a glass, but clearly it wouldn't be necessary. Not for his lady. He laughed softly, shaking his head as he watched her. He was drunk enough that his emotions were even more transparent than usual, and if his poor baby sister caught sight of the way he was looking at Charlie there was a good chance she'd wind up puking up her drinks. His gaze was locked on her, and there was incredibly likely that he wasn't going to be able to pay attention to anything else for the rest of the night now that he'd found her.
"Aw, come on. It ain't pretentious. It's ironic. Tongue-in-cheek. It's funny. We're all dressed up and there's fuckin zombies at the door. It ain't serious, otherwise you know I wouldn't be caught dead here neither. I get the joke, though. I get what Shortcake was gunnin' for. And that thing looks damn nice on you, mama. You're fuckin' smoking," Rodeo told her, leaning forward, stretching easily over the bar to press a kiss to the corner of her lips. "You gonna kick my ass? Go ahead. My ass is right here for the kickin'. But it was all worth it."