#GO ON (via somethingofthewolf) —— Okay.
He isn’t dressed like anyone else in the club — more like a banker from the ’50s, pinstripes and short collar. For some reason, even though it’s outdated, it works on him. His tie is loose, the first few buttons undone on his shirt. His hair, which is shaggy and had been hanging down over his eyes, has gotten increasingly mussed as the evening has gone on; every time Rose walked by his table, brought him another club soda, they’d chatted. And when she’d walked away, he’d shoved his fingers into that wild mess of hair, tugged on it thoughtfully as he watched her navigate the crowd with her tray and drinks.