it wasn't exactly . . . unheard of, that price would show up here. he's done it before, &. he'll probably do it again if he needs to. of course, he knew she was trying to pull away from this shit-show of a life. it never felt entirely right pulling her back in, but there was only so many people he could trust. farah is working with the general who put a hit out on his own men, as well as the man who carried out those orders. soap could have died for fuck sake. but nobody seemed to care. yesterdays betrayals are redacted history, just like damn near everything price did. it was old news. life goes on. even after that coward murdered countless civilians in cold blood.
it was a good thing he doesn't do this for recognition.
when she opens the door to her place he's behind it. giving her a small, pursed lipped smile. almost, in a way, to show his guilt prematurely. peering at her with a lowered head. "gloria." he speaks. the sound is fond, which is continued to be capped by lips' incline. his hands shoved in cigar-lined pockets, in a peace offering he wants to beat her to. you know, before she presents some prime selections for their impending pre-tradition. cigars &. pints were typically reserved for a job well done, but a reunion seemed as good an excuse than any. finally shifting weight &. lifting gaze somewhat.
"is now a good time?"
🍒 @medicbled ↪ asked for cap'n crunch (plotted)
