Paul watches with both brows still slightly arched, expression as carefully neutral as his tone had been as he reaches out and takes the envelope from Wyatt.
"Alright," he says slowly. It is clear the other man is worked up, and Paul bites back on a few choice cracks that spring to mind about your last will and testament, cowboy? or the much nastier A Dear John letter? Don't tell me, you and Glitch are eloping.
Contrary to popular belief, Paul sometimes knows when to keep his damned mouth shut.
He turns the envelope over in his fingers, eyes still on Wyatt.
"Right now?" he asks, figuring he's giving Wyatt a chance to run for the door if he wants to. And if Paul's still any half-decent sort of judge of body language, he'd guess Wyatt wants to.
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"Alright," he says slowly. It is clear the other man is worked up, and Paul bites back on a few choice cracks that spring to mind about your last will and testament, cowboy? or the much nastier A Dear John letter? Don't tell me, you and Glitch are eloping.
Contrary to popular belief, Paul sometimes knows when to keep his damned mouth shut.
He turns the envelope over in his fingers, eyes still on Wyatt.
"Right now?" he asks, figuring he's giving Wyatt a chance to run for the door if he wants to. And if Paul's still any half-decent sort of judge of body language, he'd guess Wyatt wants to.