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Indie Raymond "Red" Reddington from NBC's Blacklist. Private. Selective. Mun/Muse 21+. Dark Themes present. Please read rules/bio before following/interacting. Written by Erick

whcwashe:

She nods as he talks – it’s easier now, at least, to relax. A little. The lack of any weapons helped, if he had a gun at least she couldn’t see it. And it wasn’t like there was anyone here for him to SHOOT this time around. Fingers tap against the glass in her hand as she listens. It would’ve been easy to like him, if she hadn’t watched him shoot someone. And while she trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her – the entire idea made her uneasy. Violence was always an uncomfortable subject in any capacity, crime even more so. She was sheltered. She wouldn’t have even known where to buy pot, this was at a level she could hardly contend with. “You should – text or something the next time, I can make sure I’m home so you don’t – have to let yourself in…”

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He’s right though. It’s good tequila. And she can hardly keep that acknowledgement off her face when she finally takes a drink. Eyes close for a half second before she finally takes a breath, nodding and wiping at her lip with a thumb. “It’s – you’re right, it’s good –” Better than anything else she’d ever had. Better than anything else she’d ever be able to properly afford either. Which was dangerous, honestly. She’d go through the bottle in a flash if no one was watching. “You don’t really strike me as a tequila drinker …” She paused, smiling genuinely after that. He didn’t. Wine, yes. Tequila, not so much. Regardless, she’s glad he’s not offended at the thought of being kicked out early. It’d be one less thing to explain to Jarrett, the tequila on it’s own would be enough. 

As she mentions texting, he’s already sending a message to Dembe to get some falafel from that place they passed on the way here. Snapping the flip phone shut, he gives a single, curt nod. “Of course.” Red wouldn’t tell her he’d made a key. It was an odd place, with carvings all over the walls making him think she was perhaps a little crazy, but crazy didn’t matter when results like what she’d already produced were a factor. As long as she didn’t somehow end up turning on him and cursing him or something, she could be as loony as she wanted. “I hope you like Mexican coke, it’s all the place serves.” 

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There it was, what he’d been waiting for. Frankly, he was a little surprised there was no spontaneous sound that came from her lips. He’d always seen people given to spontaneous moans when drinking this tequila. Red eases back into the couch as he puts his phone back in his pocket before pouring another glass for each of them. Giving her a wink, he grins, “Perceptive –! I’m more of a scotch man when it comes to hard liquors, but I drink whatever my associate drinks when I’m making a deal. Picked up quite a few strange tastes that way. Have you ever had a century egg? Surprisingly good, don’t let the name throw you.”

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