Re: Quicklog, Webster's Vinyl: Daniel/Newt
Harrowing? Oh, no, why's this? [Newt was, by and large, a jovial drunk. Chattier, chummier. But, of course, his evening hadn't ended well at all and he was feeling rather sad, as if things were somehow finished, though, of course, they weren't. But, drink could make a man dramatic.—Still, he was certainly soused enough to smile when Daniel smiled at him. And he did sit. Or, rather, he was sat. Then sniffed.] What's this? [Oh!] Yes, Patrick. He's half-fairy. He has—[Newt touched the tips of his own ears, rather forgetting he was meant to be tending to Daniel's pallor.]—ears. [Another smile, and he sat back, hands in the bedding, as Daniel ducked to—oh, remove his boot. Brown boots were a touch muddy, and a spell would be much easier, for removal and cleaning, but Newt's mind wasn't precisely sharp.
He sat forward heavily and he leaned his cheek against the top of Daniel's head as the poor man worked. Idly, he fingered dark hair with inebriated lack of focus. Long fingers slid to touch the tops of Daniel's ears, as if feeling for a point that wasn't there.] Unideal, yes. I've no interest in breasts. Do you?