closed with @del-stanley​ outside neon boots -
sometimes, dimitri isn’t required to show his face at the bar but he decides to regardless. usually when the insomnia kicks in or when the ragged memories piece together behind his closed eyes. he doesn’t do any work, just tucks himself in the small back office and frequently escapes to the back of the bar for a cigarette, waiting for his eyes to get heavy naturally. during one of these breaks, a scuffle of shoes across the ground makes him turn his head and he sees a tall and dark figure swaying. ‘if you’re looking for a doorway to sleep in, you’re better off nowhere near here.’ he warns, assuming it’s someone to try and get warm for the night. ‘not because i wouldn’t let you, but because this is usually where some of the regulars come to throw up.’Â
