| "It's funny, I know. My mother nudged me into it when I was little... I had a lot of excess energy and learning to tend a bonsai will teach pretty much anyone to be patient and calm. Either that or you snip off a major limb and kill it," he shrugged easily. The waitress came then with their drinks and Kazama thanked her for his glass, from which he took several large swallows before setting it down. "I guess it's a general lesson. You have to be focused playing pool, too. And studying, and training..." He waved a hand at the thought. "Yeah ... " Well, Hwoarang sort of saw the analogy, any way. Reaching for his beer, he wrapped his fingertips around the neck and lifted it to his lips, muttering before taking a sip .. " .. I'd kill a cactus." Chuckling, he glanced to a couple of men entering, giving them a half nod and tracing their path to the bar with his eyes before he refocused on his companion. "Friends?" This time when he drank Jin nabbed an ice cube as well, crunching it as quietly as he could. Which wasn't very. "Sure." More like associates - Hwoarang's kind didn't have friends. Cast from the solitary archetype - it followed that he didn't break bread with associates, take them for joyrides on his bike, tell them his real name, etcetra, etcetra. Thinking about his own prescriptions for himself forced him to silence, during which he stared at the label on the beer bottle. /No no no, please don't get somber again/ -- Jin's mouth tensed and relaxed and his eyes drifted away and then back. He wanted to say something that would hopefully be taken positively. After some seconds of that silence, he spoke. "I wasn't really trying to get my lighter back, by the way," he said, the statement just a touch softer than his normal voice but still even and sure. Maybe he just didn't want anyone around to hear. "I was just hoping to find you ... actually." "Really .. ?" Hwoarang's tenor resonated. Lifting a dissecting gaze, he examined the face before him with a bit of uncertainty as he lowered the bottle to the table. " .. why .. I mean, what for?" Hwoarang didn't laugh, or kick him under the table, or get up and leave, and therefore it had to be considered a decent reaction. Jin's face was honest with lingering traces of ease. "I like seeing you." As in 'doing stuff with you,' but 'seeing you' didn't sound as corny. He hoped. Curved lines of orange rose in unison above thick, complementing lashes. Was he hearing Jin correctly? 'Liked seeing' him? Hwoarang couldn't tell, in a brief moment of suspicion, whether he'd heard incorrectly, or he was that obvious. " . . . seriously?" /Might as well get to the bottom of it. I've spent a week distracted about this queer shit./ Hwoarang sized him up. Jin's head canted as he scratched through the downy hair on the back of his head, gazing off in the direction his face pointed. He looked as casual as can be. "As in doing shit." He could have easily saved face by joking it off or saying something snide -- but then, how many more weeks would it have been before he got the chance again? Of course, if this went wrong there was the possibility that there would be no more chances, period. He caved. "...Just thought I'd say so, you know, you don't have to lose sleep over the lighter." |