The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Sunday morning

[betterthanaplan]

Duke had made it out to the diner this week, and then had been . . . let's call it "thoroughly exhausted" by Lucifer after. So he'd spent a couple days recovering, alternating between napping and puttering around his boat.

So he hadn't seen a certain piece of news until this morning.

There weren't many celebrity deaths that he felt much more than just sort of a vague sadness about, but this one hit a little close to home. So he was out on the deck this morning with a bottle of rum and his guitar, idly strumming along to a song on his phone.

[open for slow play. It may be tacky but bah. No small amount of my personal playlist for Duke is Buffett, m'kay?]

Comments

[betterthanaplan]

Duke swallowed.

“Ah. Yeah.”

He always had. Even without expecting to get one.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia gave a helpless shrug.

"I'm glad he got one," she said, voice just faintly tighter.

[betterthanaplan]

The smile he flicked her was faint but real.

“Yeah. Me too.”

[okteiviakom]

Octavia didn't look up, but she leaned against his side.

Just a little.

[betterthanaplan]

Duke leaned back, a little harder.

“Luce cut some strawberries, did you see?”

[okteiviakom]

Octavia shook her head again.

"No." A pause. "Were they nice?"

Inane, but okay.

[betterthanaplan]

“They were. Pretty fresh, too. Bet there’s some set aside for you.”

[okteiviakom]

"Probably," Octavia murmured softly. Because Lucifer. "I'll look later."