[ the offer of hawk's cigarette suddenly seems more appealing than the bong on the table despite the selection of enticing flavors, maybe because it's being given to him by the man himself. embry lights it with one of the dancing flames flickering around him, then takes a drag, leaning back on one hand as he surveys the way hawk takes up space on the cushy chair he's chosen, the perfect blend of haughty and domineering. he imagines him strolling down the halls of a government building, or out in beautiful italy with a rifle slung over his shoulder. a pretty picture. ]
The worst part of anyone's day is when I'm not naked.
[ his tie hangs loose, wrinkled from the tight knot, and he pushes up his sleeves carelessly, then pauses to inhale from the cigarette. smoke streams past his lips toward the ceiling, his lashes fluttering as his eyes settle on hawk again, considering. ]
Lieutenant. [ the worst most useless one when ash met him, but there'd been some improvement. ] My mother's important. I was only out of OCS for a few months with that rank pinned on me. After four tours I didn't give a shit what was on my uniform; I only cared about my men. Why'd you ask about McCarthy?
[ a stain on history, and a man that doesn't get brought up in casual conversation. he thinks about velletri, and watches the way hawk's gaze flickers almost imperceptibly to the doors, like he's mapped out every possible exit, or he's watching every person that enters. embry snags his drink, taking a generous sip, and moves his gaze away from the space between hawk's legs, and how he'd fit perfectly if he knelt between there now. ]
You have an interest in the Lavender Scare? [ he taps his cigarette against the gilded ashtray. ] They used polygraphs for that, you know.
no subject
The worst part of anyone's day is when I'm not naked.
[ his tie hangs loose, wrinkled from the tight knot, and he pushes up his sleeves carelessly, then pauses to inhale from the cigarette. smoke streams past his lips toward the ceiling, his lashes fluttering as his eyes settle on hawk again, considering. ]
Lieutenant. [ the worst most useless one when ash met him, but there'd been some improvement. ] My mother's important. I was only out of OCS for a few months with that rank pinned on me. After four tours I didn't give a shit what was on my uniform; I only cared about my men. Why'd you ask about McCarthy?
[ a stain on history, and a man that doesn't get brought up in casual conversation. he thinks about velletri, and watches the way hawk's gaze flickers almost imperceptibly to the doors, like he's mapped out every possible exit, or he's watching every person that enters. embry snags his drink, taking a generous sip, and moves his gaze away from the space between hawk's legs, and how he'd fit perfectly if he knelt between there now. ]
You have an interest in the Lavender Scare? [ he taps his cigarette against the gilded ashtray. ] They used polygraphs for that, you know.