[ evan makes a dismissive noise and turns back to the trap. wine was always for fakes, he remembers. foreigners and people trying to put on airs. people who never did a hard day's work in their life. fitting for her, he thinks.
whether david opts to drink or not, he himself stays focused on the broken metal in front of him. he pulls at screws, snaps the metal, sometimes bends it - until a spring finally comes free, and this one's not so broken. it flies out and buries itself in his arm.
it's a painful thing, but nothing new, and nothing that bad. he reaches up, pulls it out, and tosses it in a box of other not-so-broken pieces nearby before going back to his work as if nothing happened. ]
no subject
whether david opts to drink or not, he himself stays focused on the broken metal in front of him. he pulls at screws, snaps the metal, sometimes bends it - until a spring finally comes free, and this one's not so broken. it flies out and buries itself in his arm.
it's a painful thing, but nothing new, and nothing that bad. he reaches up, pulls it out, and tosses it in a box of other not-so-broken pieces nearby before going back to his work as if nothing happened. ]
She's gonna question that. Ghosts don't drink.