[ Rook begins taking off his heavy belt and holster, leaning over to read Nick's message. It earns a laugh and a nod of empathy. He's tried telling his landlady that he honestly knows how to cook. She comes from the next county over just to bring him "leftovers", but, like Nick said, it's as though he's talking to a brick wall. But, it's sweet of her to do, and he does appreciate it, even if he worries about her driving all that distance. (He's also offered to mail the rent or even drive it over there himself, but still, that same very nice, kindly brick wall.)
He gives a thumbs up to what Nick says next, and then sets about hanging up his belt, tugging off his boots, and storing his gun away in his bedroom, hidden in his nightstand. In the kitchen, he ponders one more beer, but decides against it, settling instead for a glass of water. He turns to find Nick watching him, and offers a smile... that turns pretty quickly into a cheeky grin.
Mind if I slip into something more comfortable? By which he means, he's just going to change out of his work clothes. These shirts don't iron themselves, despite how much polyester is probably in them. ]
no subject
He gives a thumbs up to what Nick says next, and then sets about hanging up his belt, tugging off his boots, and storing his gun away in his bedroom, hidden in his nightstand. In the kitchen, he ponders one more beer, but decides against it, settling instead for a glass of water. He turns to find Nick watching him, and offers a smile... that turns pretty quickly into a cheeky grin.
Mind if I slip into something more comfortable? By which he means, he's just going to change out of his work clothes. These shirts don't iron themselves, despite how much polyester is probably in them. ]