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He’d been seated at the counter by himself; not exacty a rare sight, but not uncommon either. Especially so with that stein in his hand, the dark amber liquid inside of it obvious. From what she’d been told, Sweetjane knew about the taller ghoul’s social drinking habit. Hell, even solo drinking seemed to be a raised topic when being told about The Slog’s resident chef; though even she could tell his being alone wasn’t a normal public solo outing.
She was cautious in her approach, having never really met Arsenic outside of the very forced pleasantries being introduced to his partner, “Ya a’ight, cher?”
Hazel eyes flicked over her, the sharpness of his gaze making her stand up slightly straighter. Nothing about it felt invading, more like he was trying to figure out who it was bothering him. His gaze quickly slid off of her, going back to looking down the rim of the glass, “’M not entertainin’, leave.”
“Ain’t lookin’ fer nothin’, jus’ makin’ sure ya a’ight. Clearly got somethin’ on ya mind.”
The moment of silence from the ghoul was deafening as he raised the glass to his lips; the sound of his gulping seeming amplified. It was like everything else going on at the farm just stopped. She watched as some of the liquid spilled from his ripped cheek as he took his drink; the liquid beading on the counter top. There was caution in the albino woman sidling up on to the stool next to the ghoul, though he didn’t seem to otherwise object outside of a small turn away. She hadn’t even gotten this close to him when they’d met.
And she could tell that Arsenic was much more worse for wear when it came to the ghouls. Quite a bit of muscle was visible along his frame; at least from what she could see under his rolled up chef’s coat. Some of the more worn skin around those parts were pulling away slightly, almost threatening to come off with too much exertion. They didn’t seem to bother him, at least nothing that he showed; though he didn’t come across as someone who really liked to show any emotion.
“What’s on my mind?” the ghoul finally snorted, breaking the silence, “Nothin’. Fuckin’ nothin’.”
“Nothin’,” she parroted, an almost amused hum crossing the smoothskin’s lips, “No secrets makin’ yer thoughts run?”
“My secrets?” he gave a bemused snort now, though wasn’t particularly amused by the question, “Don’t got any. Nothin’s worth keepin’ secret.”
Another messy gulp was pulled before the glass was nearly slammed against the counter; the clatter echoing in the empty pool house. Sweetjane raised a brow, feeling like he was eventually going to speak again. She watched as he bowed his head slightly, eyes clamping shut as he took a deliberate breath. First guess? He was trying to not fall off the chair, especially upon seeing him shake his head slightly, both forearms pressed against the counter to stabilize himself. Once he seemed steady, he picked his head back up; gaze cast over her shoulder and towards the pool.
Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder, seeing what he’d been fixated on. Two figures passing by the door frame, his partner and their closest friend; her new flame. Crow had practically been trotting next to Ripper, smile bright on their face as they partook in a rather jovial conversation. They disappeared from view quickly, the only indication of where they were being their now muffled conversation from the attached greenhouse.
It made Arsenic think back to when he’d first seen the duo. He’d never seen two closer friends before. Hell, he’d mistaken them for a couple as close as they’d been walking next to one another, but their playful banter he couldn’t catch made him realize otherwise.
Finally his shoulders slumped, the silence Sweetjane gave defeating him, “Should’a went with ‘em… back before th’ bombs fell. But… Th’ money was good t’ pull me t’ th’ capitol instead. Such a fuckin’ mistake…”
Sweetjane focused her attention back onto Arsenic; watching him easily down the rest of the drink before shoving the empty glass to the side, “Been havin’ dreams… ‘bout us… Our relationship… How it could’a been…” He gave a bitter laugh, slouching back against his hips slightly, “’S cruel, yannow? Ya don’t think ‘bout shit like that till it’s taken from ya. Fuck… Don’t even know how I would’a brought it up b’fore th’ world was fucked…”
Despite not saying much, he still said everything she needed to know. And it did seem like he wanted to say more; the words just escaping him. The truth was that he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to and especially so in a way that wasn’t going to make him look weak to some woman he’d never met before. From what it sounded to her, he’d never really gotten the chance to bring it up to Crow before the bombs. Marriage. Kids. Creating a life… a family together. He never got that chance and now? Well, he was never going to get it. Yes, they could get married and, sure, technically they could adopt. But Arsenic came off as the prideful sort; the whole creation of a family of his own blood just seemed like his thing.
She could tell it hurt him. A lot. Hell, it was probably the reason why he was sitting at the kitchen counter getting drunk now instead of actually speaking to them. A vice that Crow didn’t seem to complain about; a vice he knew they wouldn’t complain about especially with the bourbon whiskey he’d chosen to indulge on.
After the awkward silence between the two, Arsenic pushed himself away from the counter; pausing for a moment as the world spun beneath his feet. That silence remained heavy until he started to take a step away. Before Sweetjane could make her own escape to find her partner, Arsenic nearly shot forward, his larger frame arched slightly over hers; hand pressed firmly onto the counter. She held her breath, the proximity being way too close for comfort; especially since she could hear the slight rattle in his chest from his breathing. His voice was a low growl in her ear, making her blood chill, “Ya utter a fuckin’ word ‘bout this an’ you’re best findin’ yourself missin’ where nobody’s findin’ th’ body. Ain’t no secret I’ve killed b’fore an’ I ain’t afraid t’ do it again.”
As he went to walk off, she finally eased; hearing him muttering about going to sleep off his state. Once the older ghoul was out of view, she released her breath, chest aching slightly from holding it for so long. Yes, the threat was empty, she knew his relationship with Crow was far more important than a secret he’d eventually tell his partner. It was the fact that he’d been so shameless in making that threat where anybody could hear that had put her more on edge. He was drunk and lamenting something he’d lost, but she still knew what he was capable of. Ripper was sure to tell her what she needed to know about him especially. She just hoped that it wouldn’t be a trend, catching him drunk and getting loose lipped about stuff he didn’t want others knowing.