[ He drags her all the way to the counter, throwing her roughly against one of the bar stools without caring whether or not she actually manages to catch herself in time to avoid getting her knee smashed. Survival is a question of mind and mentality and this girl? She clearly doesn't measure up. Why she's even getting herself mixed up down here in the first place, he can only guess. The girls next door probably don't want her, either.
His grip doesn't loosen, not even as he signals for the bartender, running his hand through his hair on the tail of the gesture. Beneath his palm, the beer-stained hair strands flatten easily against the back of his head and all he can think about is how greasy his scalp's going to be. Beer. The smell. His look darkens as he finally glances sideways at her, enough to catch her trying not to look at him too obviously.
Learning her place, as it were.
The bartender pauses by them. He gives the girl a cursory glance and little more; he's smart enough to notice that the crisis is over and done with. ]
Get her another one on me. [ He speaks loudly enough to make himself heard above the music, some 90s dance beat that he recognises from somewhere, sometime. It's not important. What does matter, however, is the few curious people still listening in around them. ] I knocked her over, it's my mistake.
[ With that, he glances at her again with a slight smile, like he hasn't just been on the verge of smashing her face in. ]
Next time, be more careful.
[ He lets go without waiting for her reply - not expecting one, either - and stalks away from the bar. If Marcel isn't already done, in a few minutes he most definitely will be. ]
no subject
His grip doesn't loosen, not even as he signals for the bartender, running his hand through his hair on the tail of the gesture. Beneath his palm, the beer-stained hair strands flatten easily against the back of his head and all he can think about is how greasy his scalp's going to be. Beer. The smell. His look darkens as he finally glances sideways at her, enough to catch her trying not to look at him too obviously.
Learning her place, as it were.
The bartender pauses by them. He gives the girl a cursory glance and little more; he's smart enough to notice that the crisis is over and done with. ]
Get her another one on me. [ He speaks loudly enough to make himself heard above the music, some 90s dance beat that he recognises from somewhere, sometime. It's not important. What does matter, however, is the few curious people still listening in around them. ] I knocked her over, it's my mistake.
[ With that, he glances at her again with a slight smile, like he hasn't just been on the verge of smashing her face in. ]
Next time, be more careful.
[ He lets go without waiting for her reply - not expecting one, either - and stalks away from the bar. If Marcel isn't already done, in a few minutes he most definitely will be. ]