"It's open," came a drawl, the heavier, longer drawl that Raylan only got when he was yelling or drunk.
It had been a long week. Raylan had gone to the infirmary and gotten healed as promised, but with the trade off of one relief came the return of an old pain. Not a different one, but the one that had been quieter under the company and solace of affection. The contrast was starker than it should have been, him having dealt with this so many times before. He told himself he was silly - the flood would be over soon and Flint might even come back. He hoped he would - but while the man wasn't there, the silence of the room and the busy-ness of his own head was taking its toll.
When James opens the door, he'll find Raylan standing at the far side of the kitchen island counter, fully dressed but untidy without his slept in t-shirt and slightly bed wild hair. He may not have slept that much. He may have also drank far too much while he was awake. He kind of looked like shit, but his face lightened with a crooked smile at who he had just invited back into his cabin. His eyebrows hoist a little, smile curling more as he abandons his whiskey and reading to make his way around the island and closer.
"Welcome back. Nice threads."
He wasn't going to assume much of anything, wanted to let Flint set the tone, but what Thomas had told him ran through the back of his mind. Raylan hoped that those tearstained eyes were because Thomas had left a letter for the pirate and not only because Flint was still so far and separated from the man.
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It had been a long week. Raylan had gone to the infirmary and gotten healed as promised, but with the trade off of one relief came the return of an old pain. Not a different one, but the one that had been quieter under the company and solace of affection. The contrast was starker than it should have been, him having dealt with this so many times before. He told himself he was silly - the flood would be over soon and Flint might even come back. He hoped he would - but while the man wasn't there, the silence of the room and the busy-ness of his own head was taking its toll.
When James opens the door, he'll find Raylan standing at the far side of the kitchen island counter, fully dressed but untidy without his slept in t-shirt and slightly bed wild hair. He may not have slept that much. He may have also drank far too much while he was awake. He kind of looked like shit, but his face lightened with a crooked smile at who he had just invited back into his cabin. His eyebrows hoist a little, smile curling more as he abandons his whiskey and reading to make his way around the island and closer.
"Welcome back. Nice threads."
He wasn't going to assume much of anything, wanted to let Flint set the tone, but what Thomas had told him ran through the back of his mind. Raylan hoped that those tearstained eyes were because Thomas had left a letter for the pirate and not only because Flint was still so far and separated from the man.