When Aoba slid onto the stool nearest him, Declan's bright eyes flicked to the side, blinking twice in mild confusion. One, it was just uncomfortable for most people just for how wide he was, which always meant some part of him was bound to brush or jostle them and two, no one wanted to be around him, but a select few. The bartender watched, smiling crookedly as he slid two drinks over the table, a plain beer for Aoba and a brightly-colored cocktail for Declan.
"Stop trying to be someone you ain't, Declan," the old man grunted, plucking the glass of scotch from the Guardian's hands and downing it himself without blinking. "You ain't got the stomach for it. Just drink your fruity drinks and enjoy yourself, boy."
Sliding his eyes sidelong and glancing at the rest of the bar from behind the safety of his hair, Declan hunched over his new drink and sipped it with markedly more enthusiasm than he'd shown for the smoky gold liquor from before. Content that his work was done, the bartender went off to entertain the needs of others, leaving Declan and Aoba along at their quiet end of the bar.
"You're welcome," came the polite reply in that same deep, gentle voice. Declan didn't look up to meet Aoba's eyes, but he clearly wasn't mute, or disinclined to talk. Just unsure and inexperienced with being addressed directly. "I don't like drunks," he added with a small frown, the man's full lips almost pouting with the expression.
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"Stop trying to be someone you ain't, Declan," the old man grunted, plucking the glass of scotch from the Guardian's hands and downing it himself without blinking. "You ain't got the stomach for it. Just drink your fruity drinks and enjoy yourself, boy."
Sliding his eyes sidelong and glancing at the rest of the bar from behind the safety of his hair, Declan hunched over his new drink and sipped it with markedly more enthusiasm than he'd shown for the smoky gold liquor from before. Content that his work was done, the bartender went off to entertain the needs of others, leaving Declan and Aoba along at their quiet end of the bar.
"You're welcome," came the polite reply in that same deep, gentle voice. Declan didn't look up to meet Aoba's eyes, but he clearly wasn't mute, or disinclined to talk. Just unsure and inexperienced with being addressed directly. "I don't like drunks," he added with a small frown, the man's full lips almost pouting with the expression.