let's get lost in wonderland, fuck an atlas

"Or you could have a drink with me and not be a loser."

"And where has this harem of women gone to?" She asked, raising a eyebrow. 

Natalie Stark was right about that. The only time he may have been sober was when Walker first wakes up; and even that's doubtful, considering he can still taste rum in his mouth when he first sees daylight. Being sober is boring. He wonders how Natalie does it so often. "You're right about that. Smart girl. Not that it's a surprise-- everyone knows Natalie Stark is the smartest to ever smart." That much, he was sure he was right about. Sure, all the Stark's seemed to be annoyingly brilliant, but he's still giving all the credit to Natalie.

No feelings, no strings attached; that was what they’d agreed, that’s all this was, a good fuck. Hayley let her tongue slip inside Walker’s mouth; he tasted of scotch and cigerettes. She wound her fingers in his hair, tugging ever so slightly as she pulled away. Hayley pressed another kiss to his lips before resting her forehead on his. She took a deep breath and smiled at him. “I’ve missed that.”

A grin appeared on Walker's face, all teeth. Hayley made him happy. All females did, but currently, it was Hayley that made him smile. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, leaning in to gently place a kiss on her lips, before leaning back again.

Hayley nodded at his suggestion and took a step towards him, closing the space between them. “I think you should.” 

His reaction was natural. Walker wasn't good at many things-- running a company being one-- but everything else being the opposite of responsible; well, yeah, he was good at those. Whether kissing Hayley Martell was responsible or not, he didn't know. He hadn't gotten any threatening looks from anyone yet, which he could not say for Natalie Stark's family. 

His hand quickly went under her chin as he brought her closer, skimming her lips with his tongue. It wasn't caring, it wasn't loving, but it should successfully remind Hayley how good he is with his mouth-- or was it his hands?

He had wondered where his Martell had run off to; his Lannister was sucking face with a Stark, his Stark was... well, he'd seen her at New Year's, and to be honest, his Martell was a sight to behold.

(not that any of these lovely ladies were actually his; Walker didn't own women, knowing none of them could actually be owned, but, nonetheless, in his mind, they were his until they got tired of his shit and threw him off-- besides Lilith. He'd try his hardest to never leave her life, if only because he bothered her)

"I could remind you."

"Like you wouldn't already know that," Walker replied instantly, throwing the cards behind them, his attention shifted to something else.

Standing over her or beside her? In Walker's mind, those were two very different things, and honestly, he felt that anything he thought or said would get him in trouble, so being smart, he took a seat. "Thanks for offering."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?"

"Pretty girls like to try and heal me, though, so it's okay."

"But is it really worth dying without booze at your funeral? Priorities, Tyrell."

"I tried that, when I was like, thirteen. Didn't work. I'm damaged goods."

"Then you’d better reconsider buying yourself a one way ticket to hell at midnight with my mother."

"You're the one who wanted to spend the night with me talking about my family. God, Lilith, get ahold of yourself."

"I don’t really care enough to waste my time with a guessing game, so I suppose I’ll never know and you’ll never have it at your funeral."

"Nah. We'll make out to fill the time."

Her actions didn't go unnoticed. Walker let his eyes follow her fingers, making to moves to conceal his stare. He wouldn't around her. She obviously didn't want him to either. "Maybe, if you're lucky. Not much are left around here."