Re: At the bar: Grant S/Cris M
Cris gave a dry kinda 'yeah,' at Grant's 'you know.' He did know 'bout getting out, and he knew he was no good at it. The guy was a homebody, by and large. He liked to be with his people, in his place, but the guy next to him was young. It was more of a thing then, huh? Young. Being with friends, going out, having a good time, maybe clicking with somebody.—Still, it was pretty obvious the kid wasn't real sure what he was doing. The Sheriff watched him outta the cornera his eye as he sipped down warm whiskey, pressed his fist to wet lips, and followed the guy's bright gaze 'round the small bar.
"Hard to be social when everybody already knows each other, huh?" Least that was Cris' general take-away. Everybody had known each other for years and it was always hard to break into that, running head first into complacency. He hadn't realized it as stark before. On the job was one thing, but otherwise, the guy was around people he'd known since he was a kid. There was no real need to get to know other people, huh? But now...
The Sheriff smiled stupid at Sam's name, sappy and lovestruck as he was, and he nodded, curling his fingers 'round his glass on the bar.
"That's her. She's a sweetheart. Her brother owns the antique shop. Lou. And her sister's the baker. They tend to take over wherever they go, there's so manya them." But, he says it fond. "You paint?"