[ One last look. One last look that splits him open, takes him back to before Kenoma, Pleroma, any of it. One honest and confused and wistful and this close to leaning right into it, taking what Abel says and wrapping it around himself like a blanket, cradling it to his chest like it's something precious.
And then he blinks, his mouth twisting a little. Not a grimace, just some light distortion, like he can't really discern what kind of expression to make, so it's... this. Eyes slightly narrowed, the knowledge that Abel is an enemy directly conflicting with this, and he doesn't like it. ]
You might regret that one day.
[ His voice is low, soft, self-deprecating. Seems like a bad idea.
Some part of him still really likes it, though.
With that, Amos slides off his chair, makes his way out of the tavern. He's got shit to do tomorrow, so time to focus on that instead. ]
no subject
And then he blinks, his mouth twisting a little. Not a grimace, just some light distortion, like he can't really discern what kind of expression to make, so it's... this. Eyes slightly narrowed, the knowledge that Abel is an enemy directly conflicting with this, and he doesn't like it. ]
You might regret that one day.
[ His voice is low, soft, self-deprecating. Seems like a bad idea.
Some part of him still really likes it, though.
With that, Amos slides off his chair, makes his way out of the tavern. He's got shit to do tomorrow, so time to focus on that instead. ]