Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,
It's not fuckin' mine!" He repeated, voice rising a little more as he swung the bottle about emphatically. "The last thing I need is some fucking drama like this gettin' in the way of things." He caught the bit about Warrington and wondered just how many other of his cohorts Delaney was shagging.
He sipped the bottle again, folding his arms across his chest petulantly. "Aw. You care. Bloody great and all, Gretch, but there's no way that thing is mine, is there? Salazar!! A lil' credit is due, don't you think?"