A chuckle, lighter in tone than he had heard himself make in a while, rolled in the back of his throat. Judas turned his icy eyes toward Pan, the throat of the bottle paused inches from his mouth.
"I'm just waiting for you to make me a believer." He muttered into the open—
@hellamends || My silly ass in high school made a play on words with the word Gorgeous for a username so I still find myself being like wait—is that right? Lol.
Gore-geous
GoregasmicallyGoregeous
chair across from him. Even if Judas knew exactly who this man was, he'd never assume until he was certain. So, instead he chose to wait and see.
"And you are?" The question rested between them—his icy eyes briefly raking over the other.
He leaned across the table retrieving the zippo only to flip the top and strike the flint wheel— igniting the flame. Bringing it to the cigarette tip, he puffed until the end glowed an angry orange. Smoke slithered out of the sides of his mouth and escaped through his—
nostrils, but his response dallied. Pinching the cigarette between his thumb and pointer, he took a lung-expanding drag before pulling it from between his lips.
"Judas," He spoke the word in a bellow of smoke.
"Judas James." He added but this time motioning to the—
ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛᴏʀ:
Whiney writer sounds.
I'm sick and dying.
However, I'd really like some distractions if anyone is willing to help a decaying human out. I'll reply to the things I owe momentarily.