Claurant chuckles with a swirl of his wine, taking a measured sip before he speaks. "Maybe later," he says, and for a split second he wonders if he should have gone there, even as a joke.
The feeling's gone near immediately. Claurant regretting things is one thing, Claurant regretting an overtly flirtatious comment is almost unheard of.
"Well, you've never told me what you do. We can't just talk about me all the time, can we?"
You underestimate Claurant's capacity to flirt with just about anyone.
"Isn't that technically a career? Freelancing?" Claurant says, wondering if he misinterpreted him. "Some people do that. Who am I to judge you, honestly?"
"Yeaaaah I think technically it's just called being a loser." He says with a snort, "Which is fine. I work in order to pay rent, not to feel fulfilled."
"I can't name many people work is truly fulfilling for, and those few people are incredibly lucky. I wouldn't feel bad about it," he says assuredly, taking another sip of his wine.
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The feeling's gone near immediately. Claurant regretting things is one thing, Claurant regretting an overtly flirtatious comment is almost unheard of.
"Well, you've never told me what you do. We can't just talk about me all the time, can we?"
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"Do? You mean like career wise? Nothing." He says with a grimace, "I work shitty jobs when I have to."
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"Isn't that technically a career? Freelancing?" Claurant says, wondering if he misinterpreted him. "Some people do that. Who am I to judge you, honestly?"
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