Re: The Bar
It had been an instinctive move, dragging Sol closer, and now that it was done, Eli was at a loss as to what to do next. This wasn't the sort of mindless passion that drove him to forget all rational thought. No, it was something different, even under the haze of liquor and capitulation. It was proving a point of some sort, and even if he wasn't sober enough to remember what that point was, he was intent on proving it.
"Liar," Eli said, because there was something in the way the smirk tugged at the corner of the other man's mouth that spoke of a statement made to draw a reaction, not necessarily a true one. "Nothing bothers me at the moment," he said in a slow slur, a blatant lie that came with a glance toward the two men at the bar. "Is that what thrills you?" he asked a second later, a little more sureness in that question. "I don't think it is," he added, and he slid his hand from around Sol's waist and tugged his shirt loose of his pants to prove it - one, hard, unforgiving tug, gaze locked with Sol's, unfocused as it was. "Shall we prove my theory?" he asked, a bit of a drunken sway to it as his hand slid under that shirt to Sol's stomach.