[It's an easy answer, with only a brief flicker of something sharp in his expression. But Adam softens it after only a moment, turns it into a curl of an uneven smile, something different than he wears around his friends.]
You're too stubborn to just die, aren't you?
[He arches an eyebrow at Kavinsky, almost rhetorical. He doesn't open the bottle in his hands, but lets his fingers leech the cool perspiration on the glass neck.
Not long ago, he said he hated Kavinsky, but the truth was more like this: Kavinsky was everything Adam wasn't, couldn't be. Rich and gorgeously exotic and with a car made for racing, that could do a quarter mile in thirteen seconds on factory specs. It would have been jealousy if he let himself admit that he wanted things.
Adam should feel out of place here, with a cellphone in his pocket and a bottle in his hands. Instead the colored lights and music he doesn't speak the language to are almost a strange sort of balm to all the open wounds.]
no subject
[It's an easy answer, with only a brief flicker of something sharp in his expression. But Adam softens it after only a moment, turns it into a curl of an uneven smile, something different than he wears around his friends.]
You're too stubborn to just die, aren't you?
[He arches an eyebrow at Kavinsky, almost rhetorical. He doesn't open the bottle in his hands, but lets his fingers leech the cool perspiration on the glass neck.
Not long ago, he said he hated Kavinsky, but the truth was more like this: Kavinsky was everything Adam wasn't, couldn't be. Rich and gorgeously exotic and with a car made for racing, that could do a quarter mile in thirteen seconds on factory specs. It would have been jealousy if he let himself admit that he wanted things.
Adam should feel out of place here, with a cellphone in his pocket and a bottle in his hands. Instead the colored lights and music he doesn't speak the language to are almost a strange sort of balm to all the open wounds.]
But I'm not sure you'll be able to drive me home.