if i'm lucky i'll meet ya, flipside of the graveyard | p

[BASTILLEPAW]

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angstendants — #demotebast2k18 — rapsheet

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There it was again -- the flare of giddiness, the happiness that literally made her aura shine. Bastille wasn't really sure that he deserved such a smile, but he offered her a vaguely amused half-smile in response. "Yes, really. I wouldn't offer if I wasn't willing," he drawled, that uncomfortable awkwardness disappearing briefly in the face of his usual sarcasm. He pushed off the doorframe, glanced around her room one more time, before taking a step back into the hall. He wondered idly if she left her door open even when she wasn't around, and for some reason he assumed that she did. There was something... light and airy about her, as if she liked to have her room open to everyone whenever. Bast couldn't fathom letting anyone he didn't trust in his room, let alone anywhere near his books.

Speaking of. "I'll grab my bag on the way out," he added idly as he turned towards his room once she joined him, as opposed to the exit. They were going to be out for a while, so may as well bring the patrol supplies. Bastille tended to be reckless with his own health, but he at least seemed to respect the process when it came to patrolling duties. He pushed his door open with one hand, motioned vaguely to send her inside, and then followed a step after her as went to track down his pack. There were, of course, books everywhere -- stacked under his bed and filling every shelf, ranging from classics to history to folklore. He payed them no mind, however, kneeling down to check his supplies before he shouldered the backpack and stood up. "Ready?"