Samuel watched Don Juan mess with the buttons and fabric of his shirt. It looked just fine on him. A little long in the sleeves, since it was tailor made for Sam, who had long limbs. "Of course," he answered. "It is never that simple. Or else you would manage to stop."
If the black smoke was all that stood between Don Juan and a fulfilled life, he doubted they would be here today. Of course it was rooted deeper than that.
"Speaking of," he added and pulled the flask from his breast pocket, "I feel like more." He unscrewed the top and critically looked at the amount he had drawn up into the measuring dropper. From the periphery of his gaze, he was sharply aware of every movement occurring in the other man in the room. Her certainly had not planned for it -- what had gotten into motion here was far from over.
If the black smoke was all that stood between Don Juan and a fulfilled life, he doubted they would be here today. Of course it was rooted deeper than that.
"Speaking of," he added and pulled the flask from his breast pocket, "I feel like more." He unscrewed the top and critically looked at the amount he had drawn up into the measuring dropper. From the periphery of his gaze, he was sharply aware of every movement occurring in the other man in the room. Her certainly had not planned for it -- what had gotten into motion here was far from over.
