“aren’t they all?” a hint of humor despite sullen mood that seems to hang over each morning, steady fall of boots along gravel. sun’s just peaking over the horizon, though no earlier a start than usual. “couldn’t even bother to offer your captain a smoke?”
"comin'." ⠀ hound falls in at heel, ⠀ cigarette crushed under boot. ⠀ only halfway done with it, ⠀ too, ⠀ still no need to tell him twice. ⠀ (anything over desk duty.) ⠀ eyes fall over alpha, ⠀ noting the rings under his, ⠀ with pointed ease, ⠀ "late night, ⠀ sir?"
you don’t lose 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡. there’s a difference. [ playful jab slung her way as he pushes off the counter he’s leaned against. never allowing self more than mere moments of rest. ] but, lucky for you, i don’t think either of us want to deal with me nicotine—deprived on the job.
[ a shake of the head, though unusually lighthearted. easy to be when the topic of work was momentarily on the back burner. ] maybe a bet would be a good incentive … don’t like to shy away from a little competition, do we?
that’s what they all say, right? [ a laugh disguised as an exhale, raising mug higher almost as if to hide the humor on his face. ] besides, i don’t think we know the first thing about quitting anything.