Re: Log: Bucky B/Steve R
[Steve looks at Bucky then, his face serious, before he just drops his eyes back to the beer bottle in his hand. It's easy to knock the thing back. Once it's empty, foam clinging to the insides, he sets it on the coffee table and snatches up his journal. Idly, he flips to a blank page to doodle nothings in the margin, the zinc of beer still thick on his tongue.] I don't know. They didn't want to listen to me anyway.