“How do you— Dammit, you’re putting it on right now, aren’t you?” Theon sighed audibly over the phone, walking back at a leisurely pace. “Serves me right for forgetting it.”
The sign of the bar was within view after he crossed the street. Picking up his jacket was as good an excuse as any to stay out longer and have another beer.
Smiling to himself, he responded sounding almost dramatic.”What can I say, I’m a scrawny underfed orphan, close enough to it anyway.”
“Mhm,” Marian hummed in response. Inquisitive fingers delved into the pockets, curving around the contents to bring them onto the sticky tabletop in front of her. Content as a child with a pail of seashells, she began to explore: starting with Theon’s wallet.
“Awww, someone looks awfully precious in his driver’s license photo,” she cooed, swapping her mobile from one ear to the other to soothe the crick she was getting in her neck. Theon’s empty beer glass was still resting unbussed in front her, along with a small array of shot glasses from earlier, some upright, some not. All reeking of tequila.
“You want nachos when you get back here?" Marian picked up one of the five lighters she’d found, flicking it on and off and on again. Why did he have so many anyway? "Or perhaps we could just duck out for a bag of marshmallows.”
Marian Hawke 