Normally either marble stoic or twisted in anger (rarely anything in between), Eridan's expression now read as nothing short of exhausted. Not obviously — the dark circles of his youth had been, for the most part, banished, his skin was clear, his pallor was no different from its very vaguely purple-tinged usual — but the set of his mouth was a grim one, his eyes themselves dull and distant behind the trendy frames.
He was so tired these days. And he wanted another smoke. He always wanted another smoke.
"Alright." Eridan pulled himself into a stiff sitting position, briefly covered his eyes with his palm. Ran it up along through his hair. He'd have to dye it all a different color, probably. The purple was too noticeable, the blond too familiar, and black was too... Alternian. Entirely out of the question. "Fuck you, but alright. Don't get used to the domestic treatment."
A lazy roll of his mismatched eyes over, to examine the lines of Eddie's face. (To carefully roll that question around in his mouth, carefully, to hold those potential answers hard in his lungs until he was certain of his answer.) Considering.
Brunet. He should go brunet, this time.
"Nah."
Went to stand up, hesitated — dug his last cigarette out, lit it off the white glow of his fingers (burning half of it off in the process, as it had long since been established that nothing in Eridan Ampora's life could be simple or efficient), and settled back down at Eddie's side, arms behind his head. The food could wait, probably. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to be. Or like anybody else in this godawful burgh would even consider opening their door to him, now. To be fair, neither would Eridan.
"Ever since Ruka and everybody else split, and then you — " Silence. " — yeah. Did the sleepin' around thing for a while, but that gets dull."
A long drag. He blew a smoke ring at the ceiling with practiced precision, and then a steady stream of smoke straight through it.
"You?" Rolled his head over to examine the nuances of Eddie's expression, cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth. Lazy wisps of grey smoke curled, grew invisible, dissipated. "Felicia?"
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He was so tired these days. And he wanted another smoke. He always wanted another smoke.
"Alright." Eridan pulled himself into a stiff sitting position, briefly covered his eyes with his palm. Ran it up along through his hair. He'd have to dye it all a different color, probably. The purple was too noticeable, the blond too familiar, and black was too... Alternian. Entirely out of the question. "Fuck you, but alright. Don't get used to the domestic treatment."
A lazy roll of his mismatched eyes over, to examine the lines of Eddie's face. (To carefully roll that question around in his mouth, carefully, to hold those potential answers hard in his lungs until he was certain of his answer.) Considering.
Brunet. He should go brunet, this time.
"Nah."
Went to stand up, hesitated — dug his last cigarette out, lit it off the white glow of his fingers (burning half of it off in the process, as it had long since been established that nothing in Eridan Ampora's life could be simple or efficient), and settled back down at Eddie's side, arms behind his head. The food could wait, probably. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to be. Or like anybody else in this godawful burgh would even consider opening their door to him, now. To be fair, neither would Eridan.
"Ever since Ruka and everybody else split, and then you — " Silence. " — yeah. Did the sleepin' around thing for a while, but that gets dull."
A long drag. He blew a smoke ring at the ceiling with practiced precision, and then a steady stream of smoke straight through it.
"You?" Rolled his head over to examine the nuances of Eddie's expression, cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth. Lazy wisps of grey smoke curled, grew invisible, dissipated. "Felicia?"