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Sirius Black (the_grim) wrote in silverage,

“Hookers aren’t really my style,” he replied, “but I appreciate the advice. I’ll consider it next time I’m facing mortal danger.” Reaching for his new drink, which he thought would probably be his last, he took a sip and briefly flicked his eyes towards the door even though he knew there wasn’t going to be a man in a white coat. It was just a reflex to look when someone said not to.

He waved his free hand dismissively, “That’s my partner. I wouldn’t look for too long, though; his gun isn’t the only thing he likes to wave around once he gets drunk.”

Removing his hand from her thigh, he let his elbow rest against the bar, “I’ve had a horrible few days. I wouldn’t mind a Martian or two at this point,” he tried to smile to soften it, but it felt like it came out wrong and he shook his head lightly as he took another drink. Maybe he should have gone to a hooker.

“So do you go to university?” He asked, to switch the subject.