[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/WLTRsyo.png[/img][/center]
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[center][color=black][sup]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]
[center][color=IndianRed][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Pink Room • [color=IndianRed][b]Time:[/b][/color] Nighttime[/center]
[center][color=IndianRed][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] Noah [@helo], Wren [@Tpartywithzombi] • [color=IndianRed][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] Angel[/center]
[center][color=black][sup]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center][/color]

[color=silver]
Locke didn’t move at first.

He just sat there in that velvet booth, his fingers still circling the rim of his glass with absent rhythm, letting the last words from across the table was over him. 

Then, after a long pause, he pushed the glass toward the center of the table and stood without rush or flair, adjusting his vest with one smooth pull at the collar.

[color=cadetblue]“Alright,”[/color] he said, voice soft but certain. [color=cadetblue]“You’ve got yourself a deal.”[/color]

He stepped back from the booth, but not before letting one last curl of amusement tug at the corner of his mouth.

[color=cadetblue]“Though if I can’t call you brother anymore…”[/color] he added with a sideways glance, [color=cadetblue]“then I suppose you don’t get the family discount after all. Tragic, really, because I’m expensive...even for royalty.”[/color]

The smirk faded, not into anger or sadness, but something more grounded. He tilted his head, just a touch, letting that faint Irish lilt roll in like a tide, low and weathered.

[color=cadetblue]“But let’s not pretend, aye?”[/color] he said gently. [color=cadetblue]“Blood is more than family, and you and I... we’re tied to something thicker than all that. You can hate it, deny it, bury it under all those daddy issues swirling inside of your chest, but it’s still there.”[/color]

He paused, letting the weight of it linger before finishing with a faint, almost fond smile.

[color=cadetblue]“We’ll always be brothers, Noah. Whether you like it or not.”[/color]

Then, as if a different current took hold of him, Locke turned to the dancer still at his side. She had barely moved this whole time, eyes wide like someone who knew she was in a room full of danger. He leaned down without breaking eye contact, voice dipping to be velvety sweet.

[color=cadetblue]“Sorry to disappoint you, love,”[/color] he murmured, brushing his lips to her cheek. [color=cadetblue]“But I’ve got somewhere to be. Remember my face… we’ll make it up together another time.”[/color]

As he pulled back, he slid a wad of folded cash into her palm with discretion that almost made it feel like a secret.

Then he continued on. Locke didn’t look back, but he did say one last thing. 

[color=cadetblue]“And Noah…Give your father my regards.”[/color]
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