Mitch wasn’t usually this seemingly smooth- behind a relatively calm exterior, they were wondering what the hell the guitarist from the band they’d known barely a week was doing following them to the bar and actually trying to talk to them. Usually, they stuck to who the knew- Evan, more often than not- and kind of surveyed the scene if they were in public, trying not to engage. At any time, they’d much rather be at home, or at least somewhere where they could just relax, do nothing, and draw. Though they tended to fit the last activity in everywhere at any time- Mitch always seemed to have a sketchbook of some kind on hand, and was frequently just bent over the paper, sketching away. Not tonight, though. It seemed they had company to entertain, and though at first they had worked themselves up slightly about having to talk to someone they didn’t know, they calmed down when they realised this guy was very easily impressed. Just saying [i]sugar[/i]- a frequent, casual term that Mitch used towards people in offhand- seemed to draw out some kind of positive reaction, and though they raised an eyebrow slightly, they decided to persist.

[i]I do, when they’re worth it.[/i] Mitch did laugh slightly, feeling kind of awkward because they were being complimented and they weren’t sure how to react. After a pause, they responded with a neutral, [b]”Thanks, I guess you’ll see.”[/b] [i]Wow, Mitchell, you’re so interesting,[/i] They said to themselves critically, ready for Holden to get bored and go away- but he stayed, and even asked to buy them a drink, so Mitch figured that miraculously they hadn’t bored him to death yet, or made it so awkward that he had to leave. Praising themselves silently, they took the can Holden gave them and tapped their fingers against the aluminium absently after cracking it open to at least seem like they were committed to drinking it. [i]Sweet. I’ll give you a signed ‘Heartbreak in Stereo’.[/i] Laughing, they brought the drink to their mouth and tasted only the metal, the familiar tangy taste reminding them that they were actually quite thirsty. If only to quell it, they sipped convincingly enough. [b]”As long as you write me, like, a personal message. Spell my name right. It’s Mitchell, with a double l.”[/b]

Easily distracted, apparently, their focus was next on the slightly questionable scorpion, blatantly inked onto Holden’s neck in a position that demanded attention. Surprisingly, Holden seemed sheepish- funny, because Mitch had figured that since this guy had more than a few piercings and [i]neck tattoos,[/i] he didn’t have the capacity to [i]feel[/i] sheepish or embarrassed. Maybe it was regretted? Who knew. [i]Thanks, it’s a long story.[/i] [b]”Got all night,”[/b] They responded immediately. Was that flirting? Mitch wasn’t even sure themselves at this point, and was kind of just really interested in the tattoos more than anything else. Whenever they mentioned being terrified of needles, tattoo fanatics tended to immediately launch into tangents about the pain not being that bad, but Mitch was adamant and scared enough of them for the fear to be most likely permanent.

The irony was in the sharp smile that Mitch then displayed, as they noted Holden’s immediate curiosity, surprise and even scared apprehension. Knowing that interest was sparked, Mitch set a mental clock; how long would it take for Holden to ask about their teeth? This bet with themselves was quickly forgotten, though, because Holden lifted up his damn shirt and Mitch almost had to asked what the hell they were doing (even though they knew exactly what). Not even bothering to be subtle, their eyes dropped down after a split second of hesitation, and roamed, surveying the abundance of ink and nodding in acknowledgment. The artist in them couldn’t help but form extensions of the designs on Holden’s skin and when they looked up at Holden again briefly, they realised how pretty he really was and hastily memorised his features in order to try and draw. 

[i]Yeah, check it out![/i] Mitch was startled out of their almost-daydream, and took the invitation to again check it out. [i]I'm basically running out of space, but I figure I'll just do cover-ups 'til I die. [/i][b]”Not if you use the space right. I mean...”[/b] They were about to extend, but Holden regrettably dropped his shirt and they faltered, shrugging dismissively. [i]Like, if you couldn't afford a new sketchbook so you just start drawing all over your other pieces...[/i] Laughing at the apt analogy, they found themselves staring at Holden’s lip ring instead of making eye contact, but kept talking anyway. [b]”I relate,”[/b] They remarked, presenting their hands suddenly, somehow still covered in both graphite smudges and pen ink. [b]”Struggling artist on your six. Welcome to my twisted mind.”[/b]  Mitch laughed, baring those teeth again. [i]Sometimes I design ‘em myself. I’m not much of an artist, though.[/i] [b]”None of us are. Can I see your hand ones?”[/b]