[Punishment, he calls it, and then talks about having to smoke cigarettes. In the moment Richard's reaction splits: a slow, wincing kind of feeling that plays out sharper than the darker thing that twists behind it.]
Looks like you're stuck with revolting. [Sliding a hand to his jacket inner pocket, flashing a corner of the silver cigarette case that lives there before tucking it back in. He's a casual smoker, he doesn't need one right now.] At least you'll know where you can bum one, if it turns out you have to ice anything here.
[Apologetic, almost, but clearly not enough to take revolting as an insult or even a reason to quit.
It helps that in that moment, the idea of having to smoke cigarettes had ranked pretty damn poorly against needing to drink human blood to live.]
no subject
Looks like you're stuck with revolting. [Sliding a hand to his jacket inner pocket, flashing a corner of the silver cigarette case that lives there before tucking it back in. He's a casual smoker, he doesn't need one right now.] At least you'll know where you can bum one, if it turns out you have to ice anything here.
[Apologetic, almost, but clearly not enough to take revolting as an insult or even a reason to quit.
It helps that in that moment, the idea of having to smoke cigarettes had ranked pretty damn poorly against needing to drink human blood to live.]