"What, milk?" He looked bewildered. "Who doesn't have milk?? It's not a hot day, it gives you strong bones... Or makes you sick if you try to drink the whole gallon. Don't- don't ever do that."
Either way, he's heading towards the kitchen and the only way her hand is slipping out of his is if she doesn't follow.
Oh, she follows, deciding this version of her dad (how many is that now, three? is it three or four, or does the count start over since she's small? anyway--) this version of her dad needs looking after. Clearly he's forgotten the fundamentals.
It was that thing, where you say something and it takes a double check for the brain to get around the knee jerk reaction. The realization that he did, in fact, know that somehow was like a weight on his shoulders.
"Well you can't have whiskey."
But he was going to have some and went about setting up some coffee as he tried to process it all. He was too old to take it all so easily; his belief in magic had died young, and he'd seen too much to trust anything, including himself, too much. In the same breath, he was still a kid himself. Only a few months into being 20, Raylan barely knew who he was.
He did know that he was going to have a shot of whiskey in his coffee though.
"I think we can do sweet tea," he says with the confidence of someone who knows, while in actuality, he's got no fucking idea. But it only takes a check into the fridge to find a quart of sweet tea, pulled out with a 'huh' of surprise before setting it on the counter.
"So I become a dad, huh? That seems... wild," he drawls honestly, finding a glass and pouring out some tea for her. "Do I make decent pancakes?"
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"Suppose you're right. In that case, I want a cup of coffee. You want... like, milk or somethin'? Then we should go check things out."
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He knows that, gosh.
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Either way, he's heading towards the kitchen and the only way her hand is slipping out of his is if she doesn't follow.
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"I don't because because it's bad for me."
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"Well you can't have whiskey."
But he was going to have some and went about setting up some coffee as he tried to process it all. He was too old to take it all so easily; his belief in magic had died young, and he'd seen too much to trust anything, including himself, too much. In the same breath, he was still a kid himself. Only a few months into being 20, Raylan barely knew who he was.
He did know that he was going to have a shot of whiskey in his coffee though.
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"So I become a dad, huh? That seems... wild," he drawls honestly, finding a glass and pouring out some tea for her. "Do I make decent pancakes?"
Clearly the mark to measure dad-dom by.