Re: Quicklog, Patrick's cabin: Patrick G/Newt P
[Patrick reached up and touched his hair with his uninjured hand, but he looked most unapologetic about his method for getting his hair out of his face. And he was most comfortable in his attire; he was not concerned about his appearance. Patrick was a pretty confident dude when it came to how he looked. He watched Newt push up at fringe with a most easy and unfaltering gaze. There was no drunkenness left to the dude. This did not mean he was chill, because his life was entirely devoid of chill at present, but he was not wasted. If he had been wasted, maybe his hand would not hurt as badly as it did. Newt looked at it, and Patrick glanced down at it himself.] It looks most ugly. [It did.
It was the comment about the stones, rather than the comment about the limited size of Newt's shed, that made him decide they should go to his home for this meal. It was a sign that he trusted Newt implicitly. He turned the satchel on its side, and he held up one of the stones. It was not glowing at present, and it did not look particularly impressive between Patrick's fingers. He held it out to the dude, which was also telling. Where Patrick had been, the stones were priceless. He never let anyone touch them.
Too, man, it was easier to talk about stones and places to dine than to talk about everything else. Patrick did not intend to ignore the elephant in the room (in this case, Sue) forever, but he would allow himself the peace of not discussing it for a few moments longer. Newt had been standing there in silence and, by the time Newt shifted on his boots, one of Patrick's blond brows had arched upward in the entertained curiosity of a dude was accustomed to being stared at unthinkingly. He took up the bag of food with his uninjured hand, and then he motioned to the suitcase.] Grab any potion you need, then we will go eat at my home.