[ Daniel's teeth bare themselves as he grins through in another dry, humourless laugh that's far more of a scoff than anything else, leaning back. The stool is backless but he's pointed towards Armand almost fully now as he tries to figure out if he's being fucked with or if this angel of ire just has the world's shittiest people skills. He's too fucking ballsy to be a cop, or at the very least it's a tactic Daniel hasn't seen, and he doesn't seem stupid enough to just genuinely not get it. These are first glances, though. There's more. There's an itch he feels that's more than the withdrawal, it's something else. It's things not adding up already when the guy's said no more than five words to him. It's that scratching at his skull that'll make him one of America's greatest journalists 20 years from now.
Tongue scraping over teeth, Daniel shakes his head. ]
Fine.
[ Yeah, he's looking for drugs, looking to score--he always is. He's a red blooded American male in San Francisco on the streets of Haight-Ashbury. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to add one plus one. But Daniel doesn't like feeling cornered. ]
If I am, are you offering?
[ He knows him. He's met this guy before. It's driving him crazy. ]
no subject
Tongue scraping over teeth, Daniel shakes his head. ]
Fine.
[ Yeah, he's looking for drugs, looking to score--he always is. He's a red blooded American male in San Francisco on the streets of Haight-Ashbury. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to add one plus one. But Daniel doesn't like feeling cornered. ]
If I am, are you offering?
[ He knows him. He's met this guy before. It's driving him crazy. ]