Re: quicklog -- steph/dami: stephanie's loft.
[She wasn't that good at mimicry, but Damian's eyes did narrow at her. Especially when she poked at his side. He didn't shy from the touch, but glared. It was difficult to ascertain when the man was being facetious, when he was being serious, and when he was simply attempting to annoy, but he did lift his eyebrows.] You're drunk and your shirt's too big. [He smiled with a leer.] Is that better? [He made sure to rake his gaze over her one last time, closely, just to irritate her, before he allowed himself to be distracted by the cat. Bandit. The smile became more sincere as he looked at the animal, softer at the corners, and he dipped too to pat the dog's head after he was introduced.] Flounder. [He made his scoffing sound, the double-T against his teeth. Clearly, he thought Flounder wasn't the name the dog deserved, but he didn't say anything about it.
Instead, with great entitlement, he took Stephanie's glass from her.—Damian didn't bother with taste. He downed it fast and smiled as warmth shot through him, down to his belly. For once, it wasn't an entirely condescending thing.] You know, [he told Stephanie as he stood with his hip against the counter.] You're not as fat as you were before.