Jorah rubbed the curls of his beard thoughtfully, eyes still glued to his cot. Then, almost in surrender, his other hand joined the former, and he pressed them so hard into the sides of his cheeks that his face deformed, stretched. He was trying so hard to remember.
Liquor. He remembered wine. He knew the crisp, sweet flavor of it. The thought of heady giddiness - it made him aloof?
He shot a quick glance at the rambling man, a comedic, bowing skeleton. Jorah found himself staring at the way his jawbone bounced as he spoke, before glancing over his body, whatever objects he had in his pockets outlined with a color there were no words to describe. He swallowed, returning his guilty look to the floor before continuing.
It was a kind, and yet a wry, lost look that hung in his eyes. Like those of confused old men, or young women who lie to themselves.
Liquor. He remembered wine. He knew the crisp, sweet flavor of it. The thought of heady giddiness - it made him aloof?
He shot a quick glance at the rambling man, a comedic, bowing skeleton. Jorah found himself staring at the way his jawbone bounced as he spoke, before glancing over his body, whatever objects he had in his pockets outlined with a color there were no words to describe. He swallowed, returning his guilty look to the floor before continuing.
Stupid, and luck, and drink. I see...he trailed off, changing the slant of what he was saying abruptly,
You are humble and wise. For what do I owe the good luck that such wisdoms are tossed in beside me?He offered what was left of his face in a smile.
It was a kind, and yet a wry, lost look that hung in his eyes. Like those of confused old men, or young women who lie to themselves.
01-31-2024, 09:48 PM
