He rubs that now realistic spot himself. "No scar or anything... Not that I expected it, but goddamn."
His hands drop into Connor's lap then, resting his forearms on his legs and looking up at him. "So you wanna go out to dinner or something? Do something nice? I mean, I've never been great at it but I'm lucky that I got someone that seems pretty fucking easily impressed."
So says Hank, who was overwhelmed by half of Connor's performances.
Valentine's Day is either heinous, sorta fun, or a non-entity depending on the year. Some years they've been exquisitely painful. Like the last couple, or the one after his divorce. Some years they're a tired work day in which drunk drivers have to be pried from their vehicles or surprise marital arguments require intervention or someone's caught fucking on an elevator. Some years they're strawberry filled heart-shaped pastries brought into work, covered in frosting. Some years they were sitting at the kitchen table the night before, with a box of children's valentines teaching him how to spell 'Maria' and 'Joseph' as Cole filled out each for his classmates and he helped tape cinnamon or watermelon lollipops to them.
It's just a day. But he doesn't mind treating it like a special one when the company is right and the situation obliges.
no subject
His hands drop into Connor's lap then, resting his forearms on his legs and looking up at him. "So you wanna go out to dinner or something? Do something nice? I mean, I've never been great at it but I'm lucky that I got someone that seems pretty fucking easily impressed."
So says Hank, who was overwhelmed by half of Connor's performances.
Valentine's Day is either heinous, sorta fun, or a non-entity depending on the year. Some years they've been exquisitely painful. Like the last couple, or the one after his divorce. Some years they're a tired work day in which drunk drivers have to be pried from their vehicles or surprise marital arguments require intervention or someone's caught fucking on an elevator. Some years they're strawberry filled heart-shaped pastries brought into work, covered in frosting. Some years they were sitting at the kitchen table the night before, with a box of children's valentines teaching him how to spell 'Maria' and 'Joseph' as Cole filled out each for his classmates and he helped tape cinnamon or watermelon lollipops to them.
It's just a day. But he doesn't mind treating it like a special one when the company is right and the situation obliges.