Billy hummed, ducking his chin down for a moment. He was much too old--and used to Goodnight, at any rate--to let himself be flustered by the man. And he didn't feel particularly flustered. More amused that they still danced this dance, their words as vague and shadowy as their touches so often were.
Goody's weight as warm and familiar, pressure from shoulder to hip. It would not be difficult at all to tuck in next to him. Billy looked at the way that Goodnight held the cigarette so near his mouth, without taking a drag, and he memorized the pattern of smoke passing before his eyes.
"Bad for their backs," he said, just as casually. Vasquez and Faraday would be out shortly, they'd been headed that way when Billy had stepped out. Horne seemed the type that might be able to fight a hoard of moose while he was dead drunk; Billy was more concerned with Chisolm.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-10-17 06:01 am (UTC)Goody's weight as warm and familiar, pressure from shoulder to hip. It would not be difficult at all to tuck in next to him. Billy looked at the way that Goodnight held the cigarette so near his mouth, without taking a drag, and he memorized the pattern of smoke passing before his eyes.
"Bad for their backs," he said, just as casually. Vasquez and Faraday would be out shortly, they'd been headed that way when Billy had stepped out. Horne seemed the type that might be able to fight a hoard of moose while he was dead drunk; Billy was more concerned with Chisolm.
"I'm just glad to not be in a tent."