[ Daryl's so used to people looking beat up on a regular basis, nothing at all to comment on, that it's taken until now for him to think about her appearance— the way she touches her eye like that makes something familiar twist in his gut. Oh.
Well, that sucks. Why are people always this way, to each other.
A bit of a delay on a response, again. A bad habit of his, being too reticent, his social inexperience pushing him to the edge of awkward somewhat consistently.
But: ]
Yeah.
[ Or close enough. Daryl's a smoker, but he's not well-versed in anything offbeat. Chewing tobacco was popular where he lived in the sticks, but he could never handle the spitting, somehow. Surprising given how gross he is in general, but everybody's got their lines. ]
If I find someplace that does good fakes, I'll make sure to get you hooked up. With the ID card.
[ Should be like 100% easier for her than him, given the accent. Nobody in America knows what the fuck a real ID from the UK looks like. ]
no subject
Well, that sucks. Why are people always this way, to each other.
A bit of a delay on a response, again. A bad habit of his, being too reticent, his social inexperience pushing him to the edge of awkward somewhat consistently.
But: ]
Yeah.
[ Or close enough. Daryl's a smoker, but he's not well-versed in anything offbeat. Chewing tobacco was popular where he lived in the sticks, but he could never handle the spitting, somehow. Surprising given how gross he is in general, but everybody's got their lines. ]
If I find someplace that does good fakes, I'll make sure to get you hooked up. With the ID card.
[ Should be like 100% easier for her than him, given the accent. Nobody in America knows what the fuck a real ID from the UK looks like. ]