#kywht

▐│∶x∶; —                    --damnit… he’d hoped that she hadn’t overheard that bullshit, let alone the muttering under his breath afterward. kaye’s ever vigilant, though. it’d been her sharp attention that’d “introduced” them in the first place. of course she’d pick up that some dickheads overstayed their welcome. 

dolcetto grunts. he drapes one of the dishrags over his shoulder and shakes his head, leaning one forearm onto the bar counter close to her.

             ❛ yeah, i know. ...but they ain’t worth your time or energy. ❜

he lets out a scoff.

’ you ya doofus. ‘

she'd left the window open. in most cases, he'd call this slapping an "easy target!" label right on your forehead. it's an old, and shameful, way of thinking, but when you spend four years of your adolescence thieving, sneaking around in the shadows and just generally getting up to criminal activity, the eye for opportunity never quite goes away.

gar enters in form of a tiny garden lizard; it's an animal that's commonly green, so the form wouldn't seem out of place had she been in the kitchen to notice him. once he's certain she's not in the room or those connecting, he reverts form and stays perched on her counter for a moment.

         ❛ ... ❜

all that moves are his ears, twitching and turning in an array of directions and angles, searching for the smallest hints of sound. he thinks he hears footsteps on the porch. a muffled voice. but if that grumpy guy with the sword was around, gar couldn't smell or hear him. ...cool.

———-•••••———-

▐│∶x∶; —                            the worst part is the not knowing. if she had any idea what had happened, or that something had happened at all. ...it'd been at least a month of recovery and silence. no phone calls, no visits. not even something by post to ensure that the silence wouldn't be taken as tragedy.

he hopes that she hadn't tried traveling to dublith. that she hadn't had to find the remains of the nest on her own--face questions, the lack of answers, that would follow. he hopes she'd been too busy. that something had come up in her own life that kept her attention, her focus, her concerns elsewhere.

dolcetto eyes the property before ducking around and out of an alley--making his way to the backyard and hopping the fence. his abdomen burns, but he drops to the ground without hesitation and darts to the kitchen window, waiting a beat or two for the air to go still again. it's late at night; the nearest streetlight is a ways off and people in kaye's neighborhood usually keep to themselves. he's probably fine. her kitchen light's still on.

            ❛ ... ❜

•••

▐│∶x∶; —                            --aha... so she wants to play this game does she?

dol raises a brow, eyeing her sketchbook before looking past it to meet her gaze. he holds it for a long moment... letting the silence linger... before taking a step back and moving to pluck the magnetic whiteboard off the fridge. he puts the marker's cap between his teeth and tugs it loose, quickly writing across the board's sleek surface.

then, he turns it to hold it up so it rests across his forearm for her to read.

▐│∶x∶; —                              it's a bit of a surprise ( a welcome one ) to get a whiff of oil and acrylic paints on the air. kaye hadn't "called ahead" or done anything to indicate she'd be dropping by the bar, but that's not entirely unusual for either of them. he had a habit of dropping in unannounced, so did she. still, it's a bit late in the evening. maybe that's what catches his attention the most.

dol looks up as he sees a figure approach from the corner of his eye. he starts to smirk--starts to ask a stupid question that would kick off an inside joke or make her roll her eyes--but words stop short in his throat. she's smiling... but she's not. it's for show. a wall put up to keep everyone else away from her. and when she asks if he could take some time for her, there's not a sliver of hesitation.

he turns to the kitchen window, rapping it's frame twice with his knuckles.

            ❛ --OWEN! tell blondie or cain to get           their ass down here! i'm takin' thirty. ❜

"an actual thirty or a fake thirty?" owen calls, glancing over his shoulder from the sink. dol shrugs and owen nods, setting his towel aside and moving toward the stairwell door.

dol vaults the bar, dusting his hands off and giving kaye a small nod.

unprompted ; always welcomed & appreciated

▐│∶x∶; —                                 he had, of course, known the moment she’d entered the nearby area. so it’s no surprise when he grabs a bottle of spirits and turns back to the counter that she’s seated herself on the edge. even in the dim lighting of the bar, her eyes still glimmered with the usual mischief and care she’d come to be known for, and that he’d come to love. 

dol smirks, and he snorts as he sets the mixer on the counter, pouring the liquor into the ice.

             ❛ y’better get down from there before owen spots ya. ❜

it’s an empty warning. owen won’t mind, especially considering the bar counter was just bound to get dirtier and less organized as the night went on. it’s much more the start of their usual banter.