[Zevran returns home with the groceries. It's actually a very pleasant game to him, playing at house, filling the little ice box in their apartment with food, tidying up. It's like a deep cover job, playing out every silly little motions to be convincing at the part, right up until the point where he poisons the tea or elegantly slides a blade across a gullet.
(It's too much to hope he might not ever have to break cover here.)
He's humming a merry Antivan tune as he throws pen the door, taking the grocery bags into the kitchen.]
no subject
(It's too much to hope he might not ever have to break cover here.)
He's humming a merry Antivan tune as he throws pen the door, taking the grocery bags into the kitchen.]