“It’s so sad I don’t know where anything is inside my own home.” Damien grumbles in frustration. Standing up and tapping his fingers on the bar, he looks off into space while chewing the inside of his cheek. Eshe sucks her teeth and tilts her head as Damien seemingly dismisses her.
“You joining me in the hot tub or what?” He points his palms up like, ‘what,’ staring back at her in confusion.
“Are you even listening to me?” She folds her arms and crosses one leg over the other, Damien turning his back to her and staring at the wall of bottles. Grabbing a bottle of 18-year-old scotch and turning back around,
“every word, beautiful,” he picks a fresh glass from under the counter and fills it an eighth of the way before topping off Eshe’s empty glass.
“Do you want to end things with me or not?” Her frustration brings a small smile to Damien’s full lips as he leans in closer.