take me home. | bree & sam
WHO: sam evans & bree brown @basicallybree
WHEN: 10/31, late late evening
WHERE: The Maggie, eventually bree’s place
Sam ignored the throbbing at his knuckles, hissing only slightly when he placed the dried glasses on the stack with the other clean set. All things considered, he was in relatively good shape. The fight hadn’t last long and he managed to come out on the right side of it, with only a sore hand for his trouble. He’d worry about the rest of it and the gossip that was sure to follow tomorrow. The last of the patrons were clearing out and soon he would be too. He was ready for the night to be over; he was keyed up and needed to decompress from the evening’s weird tension. The glasses were clean, the tables were back in order, and he was wiping down the bar top when he spotted Bree. He’d been surprised to see her out for the evening, and aside from pouring her drinks hadn’t really seen much of her. But nearly everyone else was gone or leaving and she seemed to be alone. “Hey,” he called to her, hanging up the rag and making his way over. “Are you good?”
