Milk. [He has given up on correcting Thoma. And he's too foggy-minded to say why he tried at all. His father...
Diluc works his coat off and folds it, laying it at his side. It's too warm in this room. Or maybe it's just him. He hadn't relaxed in years. He won't after this day if he has anything to say about it.
It's easy to survive as a lone man. He rolls his shoulders and settles in like a bartender about to mix a drink.] What about you?
no subject
Diluc works his coat off and folds it, laying it at his side. It's too warm in this room. Or maybe it's just him. He hadn't relaxed in years. He won't after this day if he has anything to say about it.
It's easy to survive as a lone man. He rolls his shoulders and settles in like a bartender about to mix a drink.] What about you?