Re: log: blake and graham, thorne house
Graham didn't do much talking, so small talk was pretty much any conversation that wasn't fueled by necessity. He was comfortable with silence in a way most people weren't, and he likely could've just stood there, in the darkened library, without saying one word to Blake and not be bothered one bit. He wondered, briefly, how he'd managed at the party, but he wasn't one to ask and he figured it was safe to assume it hadn't gone well for him either.
More silence, as he mulled over whether or not most people would let a woman and her kid die in the zombie apocalypse. Sure, he could see that. People were selfish. People who couldn't shoot, couldn't fight, they were liabilities; nobody wanted a liability. "Yeah," he agreed. "Guess some people can live with themselves that way."
Another deep gulp of whiskey, and he almost choked on it when Blake said he owed him an apology. Not because he was expecting it, no, but because it was a surprise and he'd just chosen to swallow at the wrong moment. He coughed a couple times, to clear his throat, and raised his eyebrows. "Do you?" His tone was only mildly curious. What the hell this kid could owe him an apology for, he had no idea.