[ He shakes his head at the offer of a drink, already comparing the state of himself to something like an MDMA dose at a nightclub. He doesn't need more of that right now, especially considering his generally high-risk lifestyle. ]
Joe. Joe MacMillan.
[ He sounds for all the world like she's supposed to recognise that name, or at least like he's accustomed to people knowing it. The melting when Angela settles in, however, is mutual, and the flash of arrogance is dropped in exchange for contact. For some reason Joe doesn't give that as much thought as he should. He just knows it's warm, and he's tired, and even this stuffy situation is infinitely more bearable, the less personal space he has. ]
That's what they think vanilla smells like?
[ He almost sounds derisive, but languor beats it into his tone by just a notch. As soon as she's against him, he in turn squirms onto his side both to make room and as an excuse to get closer; it takes conscious effort not to sling an arm and a leg across her. He's not an animal. ]
I guess I have a talent for sniffing out the premium in everything, then. Maybe I should charge for it.
[ The muffled chuckle should tip her off to the joke, though. He sounds sleepy enough to be talking out his ass anyway, even if he doesn't feel tired now that the conditions he wanted for a nap a minute ago are met. ]
You're fine where you are, Angela.
[ And it's a little weird the way his timbre in saying her name sounds like they're already friends, or more. Maybe it's just the close quarters. Besides, he isn't making a move on a stranger, not even in a weird dream like this. ]
(maybe??? shoutout to the ten of swords babey)
Joe. Joe MacMillan.
[ He sounds for all the world like she's supposed to recognise that name, or at least like he's accustomed to people knowing it. The melting when Angela settles in, however, is mutual, and the flash of arrogance is dropped in exchange for contact. For some reason Joe doesn't give that as much thought as he should. He just knows it's warm, and he's tired, and even this stuffy situation is infinitely more bearable, the less personal space he has. ]
That's what they think vanilla smells like?
[ He almost sounds derisive, but languor beats it into his tone by just a notch. As soon as she's against him, he in turn squirms onto his side both to make room and as an excuse to get closer; it takes conscious effort not to sling an arm and a leg across her. He's not an animal. ]
I guess I have a talent for sniffing out the premium in everything, then. Maybe I should charge for it.
[ The muffled chuckle should tip her off to the joke, though. He sounds sleepy enough to be talking out his ass anyway, even if he doesn't feel tired now that the conditions he wanted for a nap a minute ago are met. ]
You're fine where you are, Angela.
[ And it's a little weird the way his timbre in saying her name sounds like they're already friends, or more. Maybe it's just the close quarters. Besides, he isn't making a move on a stranger, not even in a weird dream like this. ]