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come here, anna. remy's got a fresh pot brewin' an' two arms wit' your name on 'em. what's troublin' you, 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦?
⠀
remy sits still, his injured arm resting between them. a sharp breath escapes as the bandage presses against his wound, though he tries to look unfazed.
" now dat's rich, comin' from 𝘺𝘰𝘶, wade. since when you start lecturin' folks on stayin' outta trouble? "
Replying to @dihpool
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀… these kinda things. one day, you might just bite more than you can chew. ”
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀conversation, to distract himself from the smell.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀
his free hand turns a playing card between two fingers, more out of habit than anything. he's had worse injuries, though he wouldn't mind a little sympathy.
" besides, remy ain't bit off more dan he can chew yet. just got dealt a 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 dis time. "
( remy pulls up a chair, settling across from her. )
" 𝘰𝘶𝘪, an' remy's bettin' on you. dey can split us up all dey want. ain't gonna change who we are. "
remy studies the younger man, the refused twenty still between his fingers. stubborn kid. reminds him of himself at that age.
still, he knows better than to mistake pride for ingratitude.
" alright, alright. remy ain't gonna 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 it on you, homme. "
Replying to @tcrentule
of course he denies it, because missing having some support and taking twenty dollars from a stranger are two 𝑣𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 different things.
still, he steps through the door and into the cafe. “have you been here before?”
his expression softens, though the teasing remains.
" an' before you start protestin' again, coffee's still on remy. "














































