Daniel Ciin (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} miaiphonos) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} paxletalelogs, |
With one bent elbow Samuel pushed off from the armrest, whiskey sloshing in his glass as he moved. Above his incredulous expression his brows sharply arched, not an ounce of his apparent surprise feigned. He studied Rylee's face, searching it for signs that this might be some kind of joke, a way to pull one over on Samuel as he (for once) earnestly tried to help - but it was immediately, abundantly clear the story was precisely as Rylee told it. Samuel leaned up toward him, elbows resting on his knees, glass dangling in one lax hand.
"So your big move," he said, "was trying to hold her hand. And she got you drunk and you slept on the couch? God damn, kid, your mama left Lifetime on too much when you were little." He chuckled at his own joke, quelling his sharp grin with another sip of whiskey. There seemed a great deal of work to be done on this particular neighbor, and for the moment Samuel had not the first idea where to begin. He tried, then, to find a starting point, some familiar ground upon which they could build.
"All right. Maybe this'd be easier if I knew more about the girl you're after. Hell, all I know, maybe she likes that kind of sentimental shit." An impish grin tugged at his lips. "Is it someone here?" He made a great show of pondering, the rough pad of his index finger tapping at the corner of his mouth. "Viola?"