Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,
"Yeah, well enough," he looked down at himself and back at the spatula, shrugging away her question. It was his house and he could wear, or not wear, whatever he liked. Trevor took the plate happily and and sipped his coffee carefully as he moved to the table, taking up a spot beside Gretchen. "You?"