Re: Mean-Eyed Cat: Cat & "Leena"
The blinking, yeah, okay, that was a little strange, but Leena had the decency to smile at the other woman in an attempt to be reassuring. She was pretty. Clean. Strong fingers that tucked the cleaning rag under her belt.
Maybe she just thought Leena was too young to be here. Maybe that was why she was blinking; she didn't need to assume the worst. And Johnny, maybe he was being a little merciful because he hid that warble in the depths of his voice.
She slid into the vacated stool, jacket still wrapped tight around her and her second- (or maybe third) -hand 501's, no designer anything anywhere, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the cuff of her jacket falling down over her knuckles. "Um..." A glance behind the woman said liquor, and the handles at the bar were beer - something she had never developed a taste for, neither domestic or international. "Rum and coke?"
The lady, she was going to ask for her ID, the one that gave the only name she'd ever known: Leena Bertolini. Everyone did and she knew well enough that she looked young enough to be carded every single time. Pushing off the lower bar with her feet, she fished a very slim wallet out of the back pocket of her aforementioned jeans and flipped it open to prove she was old enough to be here, drinking.
She held it out, one hand still holding tight to the opposing flap, but there was nothing in her eyes to indicate a challenge.