Sitting down, Charles exhaled and could feel a bead of sweat forming across his temple and sliding down the side of his face. Nothing about this made him feel comfortable. It made him feel dirty and he didn’t know why.
“I don’t smoke,” Charles lied and his eyes shifted almost immediately to the shot glass – as if snapping into some sort of tunnel vision. It was a lot harder to say no to the firewhiskey than it was to say no to a cigar. Swallowing once again, Charles lulled his head slightly and listened to the man talk about the vampires, the rules, and the patrons. His right hand was perched rather precariously across his chest, his elbow resting on the armrest. His training – and experience – had shown Charles that even if you were just talking, someone having a wand out didn’t always end well.
“I wasn’t insinuating you would be involved with that, Mr. Gallagher,” Charles coughed slightly and shuffled in his seat, his voice almost stern-like; teeth tugging uncomfortably at the inside of his lip, “Have you noticed any suspicious sorts recently? Because I need to know if you have.”
Merlin, this was hard. He wanted the shot of whiskey and he wanted more – he wasn’t sure what but he could feel it. Or, rather, feel something.
Something was not right.
“I don’t smoke,” Charles lied and his eyes shifted almost immediately to the shot glass – as if snapping into some sort of tunnel vision. It was a lot harder to say no to the firewhiskey than it was to say no to a cigar. Swallowing once again, Charles lulled his head slightly and listened to the man talk about the vampires, the rules, and the patrons. His right hand was perched rather precariously across his chest, his elbow resting on the armrest. His training – and experience – had shown Charles that even if you were just talking, someone having a wand out didn’t always end well.
“I wasn’t insinuating you would be involved with that, Mr. Gallagher,” Charles coughed slightly and shuffled in his seat, his voice almost stern-like; teeth tugging uncomfortably at the inside of his lip, “Have you noticed any suspicious sorts recently? Because I need to know if you have.”
Merlin, this was hard. He wanted the shot of whiskey and he wanted more – he wasn’t sure what but he could feel it. Or, rather, feel something.
Something was not right.