[He pulls onto the road, shifting to driving one-handed while he steals a glance over at the way Abbacchio is drowsing in the passenger seat. When he relaxes, his features grow softer, and there's actually a surprising delicateness to them, pale beneath the smudged black lipst—
Oh.
Oh, fuck, did he wipe his mouth after they split that bottle, or did he just bypass the gate with lipstick on his mouth and a puddle of sleepy man in his passenger seat.
Good fucking grief.]
...But you're doing all right. They pay you well enough to get by?
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[He pulls onto the road, shifting to driving one-handed while he steals a glance over at the way Abbacchio is drowsing in the passenger seat. When he relaxes, his features grow softer, and there's actually a surprising delicateness to them, pale beneath the smudged black lipst—
Oh.
Oh, fuck, did he wipe his mouth after they split that bottle, or did he just bypass the gate with lipstick on his mouth and a puddle of sleepy man in his passenger seat.
Good fucking grief.]
...But you're doing all right. They pay you well enough to get by?