[ Well for now, Tim's gonna stare at him. He's visibly drunk, wobbly on his feet and squinting at him, glasses long left on the table at the bedside. He's...magnetically handsome, like he always is, while Tim is unshaven and ruffled and pink in the face from the bottle of wine he's finished. ]
Yeah, he's at Quentin's.
[ It looks like he's made himself at home here, things Hawk would recognize as his from their cohabitation casually littered around. Not messily, he's never messy, but comfortably. ]
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Yeah, he's at Quentin's.
[ It looks like he's made himself at home here, things Hawk would recognize as his from their cohabitation casually littered around. Not messily, he's never messy, but comfortably. ]
Sit with me?
[ He'll be flopping down on the bed regardless. ]