Re: [B&B: Nishka and Atticus]
Atticus wasn't a good parent. Wasn't a parent at all, but wasn't a good surrogate either. Was up to her whether she should accept the drink; didn't think to question whether it was a good idea or not. "Welcome." Watched her glance at the smokes, but didn't ask. If she wanted to tell him, she would. Atticus didn't push. Didn't push, didn't chase, didn't pursue; was a lazy man through and through. Made life as easy for himself as he could possibly manage. Wasn't as easy recently as it had been before this town, but was still working on making things as uncomplicated as possible.
Explained why he looked at the man, listened, but didn't acknowledge. Just lit his smoke as she took the sip of that beer. "Car?" The accident. Assumed it was a car accident, given how James looked. Motioned with the smoke to her side, in case she wasn't sure what he was asking. Popped his own beer open and took a long swallow. A gulp, really.
She asked about the haunts, and he laughed. "Usually sold out thanks to the haunts. Internet craze. People come here to spend the night. We sell out from September through November, thanks to Halloween. Are we really haunted? I think you can answer that yourself now that you're staying here." His grin was lazy, sloth and tease and unhurried as he sucked the end of his cigarette flat and damp. "I think it is. You might think it's not." Curiously, because Atticus was a reader, and readers collected stories: "Where did you come from? We're in the middle of nowhere." Capital was close, but who drove an hour out of the way to a tiny weird town that lived in the shadow of a supposedly abandoned military facility? Was always a reason.