(LMAO SQUIDWARD YELLED WHAT)
Vaughn heard the stifled laughter and he looked back over at the man, a dark brow raised. What could that kid be laughing about? He was alone over there. A few strands of hair came loose, wanting to go back into their normal spot- around one of his eyes. He reached up and slicked them back, straightening the fake glasses and nudging them up a bit more.
(HAVE YOU NEVER HEARD THE THING WHERE SQUIDWARD ON SPONGEBOB YELLS THAT) Kaz glanced over at the man before immediately turning away, his face a little red. He grabbed his drink as soon as the bartender stopped talking, moving to sit in his old booth again
(I CANT REMEMBER)
Vaughn loosened his tie and adjusted the collar to his white button up. It felt hot in the bar, but he didn’t want to take his suit jacket off. Eventually he gave in and shrugged it off. He also rolled up his sleeves a bit, but not far enough to where his tattoo was showing.
Kaz's mind immediately went off on a tangent as soon as Vaughn started to take off his suit jacket. His face went red, though it was near invisible in the darkness of the booth. A waiter came around, and when they stopped he cleared his throat before telling them to put whatever Vaughn was buying on his tab quietly. Hopefully this would go towards not getting killed in his sleep tonight
Vaughn heard the soft words of the man behind him. He straightened his posture, brow furrowed. Why was this stranger paying for his things? He could pay on his own.
Kaz sank into his seat, anxiety starting to ebb away. He was alright. He wasn’t getting stabbed anytime soon
Vaughn ran a hand through his hair now as he stared down at his hands. His hair was messed up now, falling back into it’s usual style. He couldn’t understand why that man paid for his things. He couldn’t grasp why. It frustrated him.
Kaz started to panic as the man’s electrical field spiked. Had he done something wrong? Oh no. He probably had
Vaughn tugged down his sleeves, letting his eyes clench shut when the whispers snapped at him. Why so angry, Finley? they hissed in his mind. Why don’t you understand? You’re still like a child. After a few slow breaths, he brushed the whispers away, his body growing less tense. He remembered his breathing exercises. In for three, hold three, and exhale for four.
Kaz stared into his drink before downing it all at once. Apparently being drunk was the only way he was going to survive the night
Vaughn looked at the glass that he had sent to his table. He already felt a bit tipsy, and he tended to be a talkative drunk. He sipped his drink, considering going and talking to that man. He seemed nice enough. Vaughn was in a good mood that night anyways. He had a successful job, killed that bastard of a man. Maybe he deserved to celebrate.
Kaz glanced back over at the man. Apparently he had already downed his glass. Looks like he would be paying for a lot of liquor tonight
//meanwhile Lilith eats popcorn in the corner
Vaughn suddenly got up, tugging his sleeves back down the rest of the way. He didn’t put his suit jacket back on, simply just put it over his shoulder. He walked towards the man, sliding into the booth across from him. “Picking up my tab?” He spoke in a deep tone, ‘brown’ eyes wary.
Kaz gulped, almost forgetting the entire English language in surprise. “Um. Yeah. Consider it a ‘please don’t kill me’ gift,” he laughed nervously
“I don’t kill people like you,” Vaughn muttered. That was the problem with most people. He only killed certain people. Male abusers in families. He wasn’t mindless. You help people, not murder the whispers hissed in the back of his mind as a reminder.
“Wow. Um.” He trailed off, not quite knowing how to respond. He sighed, holding out a hand. “Look, we got off to the wrong start. I’m Kaz.”
Vaughn looked at Kaz’s hand skeptically. Why did he have to introduce himself? Kaz had to of been aware of who he was. He took Kaz’s hand anyways, shaking it. “Vaughn Finley,” he introduced, but made sure to keep his tone softer when saying his name.
Kaz nodded. "Look, um. I'm sorry for heckling you on the street. You just looked like you needed help, y'know?"
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Vaughn said, leaning back in his seat a tad as he observed Kaz with a heavy gaze.
Kaz squirmed a little under Vaughn's gaze, taking a sip of his drink. "I didn't mean to come off as…Weird or anything. Sorry about all that."
“No, you were just being a concerned citizen,” Vaughn simply said, thumb lightly tracing circles on the table top in a distracted way again.
Kaz scoffed at that. "Concerned citizen," he repeats quietly, staring down into his liquor. "Don't even know if I count as a citizen anywhere anymore."
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Vaughn asked, arching a dark brow in question as he continued to watch Kaz.
"I'm from Germany. Doesn't help my case already, but I slipped up on registration on accident, and know I'm pretty sure Trump could deport me if he really wanted," Kaz laughed
Vaughn scoffed sharply, shaking his head slowly. “Why the hell would you want to come to America?” He questioned.
“Not my choice. Mom was dying of cancer, Dad was chasing us down. I had a very hectic childhood,” he chuckled
“You’re dad was doing what?” Vaughn asked, seemingly suddenly interested. Fair game the whispers said in a sing song voice in his mind, and fo once, he agreed with them.
“Chasing us. My mom sold my soul to him in exchange for my aunt marrying some rich bitch. We hooped countries to keep him away from us,” he said, taking another drink of his alcohol
“Sold your soul?” Vaughn further questioned, frowning. “Tell me you’re jus being sarcastic.”