He had also seen Adelaide around, but he had never actually talked to her. Not much anyway. He knew of her, and knew that she was good people. Friendly, it seemed.
Wrinkling his nose, Brannon shook his head and waved the offer away with the magazine in his hand, "No, thank you. I'm trying to quit." Truth. He was either A, going to run out of whiskey, thanks to the apocalypse, or B, get shitfaced on Jameson and get himself killed by a fucking blob. What a way to go, though, right?
"There's no rule that says there can't be multiple brooders," he gave a bit of a look around with blue eyes before giving a little nod to himself, as if to solidify his comment, before returning his attention to her.
Reaching up with his free hand to scratch as his scruffy cheek, he gave another shrug, "ehhh... I liked cop shows. But my roommate--well, work partner, he had Netflix, so I watched everything on it. He said he didn't like Orange Is The New Black, but between you and me? He definitely had a thing for Red. Mention it to him, the next time you see him." Brannon smirked with amusement at the idea of Adelaide bringing up any television character to Archer.
He nodded, "Game of Thrones, yeah. I just pretend the fucking dragons ate everyone but Davos. Oh, and the Hound comes back. And Arya ends up queen of everything. Arya rules, The Hound, Brienne of Tarth, Davos, and Tyrion all rule the North and the other places I could never keep up with."
Motioning toward her again with the rolled up magazine, Brannon hesitated a moment, before continuing, "Um.. you uh.. Would you like to be alone? I didn't mean to walk up on you or anything. Sometimes you just have to read alone. I get it," he shrugged, hoping to make her feel a little better about him seeing her crying.