[ Tatara whirls around to rest his lower back against the counter, bracing himself upwards with his hands. His gaze drifts to the ceiling, and he realizes he isn't sure if he remembers what Bar Homra's ceiling looks like anymore. ]
I think it's because he liked me the way I am.
[ That's his selfish idea of the rejection, anyway. ]
There is!
[ He snaps out of his little mood shift and strides over to a row of jars lining a small shelf on the far wall. He snatches a jar appropriately labeled, feels like konbu.
As he places it next to Solomon, he peers up at him. ]
no subject
I think it's because he liked me the way I am.
[ That's his selfish idea of the rejection, anyway. ]
There is!
[ He snaps out of his little mood shift and strides over to a row of jars lining a small shelf on the far wall. He snatches a jar appropriately labeled, feels like konbu.
As he places it next to Solomon, he peers up at him. ]
Do you need me to do anything else?