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Joseph 'Cool Minister' Christiansen (
2017-07-30 03:01 am (UTC)
Isn't that true? Joseph thinks back to a church function in Pamela Johnson's backyard, how they'd had an array of wines to choose from. He thinks of selecting one of the palest ones they had, thinks of the look on Mary's face when she'd seen him, the way she'd slid right from disinterested to furious to sad, all at once, before smoothing it down again.
Joseph knows he deserved that, that time. It was still worth it to taste something that reminded him of Robert.
And they both sip their drinks - well. One of them sips, one of them gulps, although to be honest the only difference is the stance. Both of them are greedy for the alcohol, for the excuses it brings.
If Robert isn't going to comment on how it's more tequila than margarita mix, Joseph won't explain why. They clearly both know.
Joseph comes over to the table Robert has been pacing near, places a hand lightly on the back of a chair. His eyes are sheepish, skipping down to his hand in between glances up at Robert. He looks up only through his lashes.
Could we both sit down for this, please? I'd like for this to be as comfortable as possible.
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