Somewhere between guessing outright (he didn't) and being entirely unsuspecting (he wasn't), Deacon raises an eyebrow with half-smirk turning into a more knowing smile of confirmation, minorly oversized canine teeth a-flash in the dim light, a display that should surprise no one down here. Hey, if she can show her teeth--
"I fucking hate texting, so, glad you could make it. Walk with me."
Mostly to get out of the crush of crowd, which Deacon navigates well enough, leaving the winding trail of smoke like a trail to follow. "You too, princess."
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Somewhere between guessing outright (he didn't) and being entirely unsuspecting (he wasn't), Deacon raises an eyebrow with half-smirk turning into a more knowing smile of confirmation, minorly oversized canine teeth a-flash in the dim light, a display that should surprise no one down here. Hey, if she can show her teeth--
"I fucking hate texting, so, glad you could make it. Walk with me."
Mostly to get out of the crush of crowd, which Deacon navigates well enough, leaving the winding trail of smoke like a trail to follow. "You too, princess."