QUID PRO QUO.

                                       There is an air about the stranger that seems to mirror Anton’s own foreignness: a suggestion that they’re both outlanders walking unwelcoming terrain. Even out here, where the scorched earth accepts no one, they still exist in that quiet, airless space that exposes one loner to another. He doesn’t mind. In a way, he almost finds a certain understanding in him for the man’s self-contained complacency that makes the diner guests take the longer route just to avoid passing their table. 

      Anton’s wary gaze goes from the starved curl of that mouth to the now emptied cup of coffee, to the brown stain smudged across the rim. One of his hands drops almost listlessly on the bulge that’s visible under his jacket — not quite reaching for the metal weight that lies beneath the well-worn leather, just resting there for the time being. There are certain types of magnanimity he doesn’t have any need for. 

                                              “ What kinda favour would that be? ”

                      _{———❝ CAN I ORDER ANYTHING ELSE FOR YOU? a drink maybe? ❞
he finished his coffee, wiping his face with a checkered serviette as a waitress sneaked by to take the empty mug. crumpling the thin napkin, the man turned to face his newest acquaintance. green eyes settled into the dim lighting, in them the sort of glint that looked akin to a genuine smile, but only unsettled the stomach.}

       _{❝ if not, then i’d like to speak with you in private. ❞
places like these were safer than others. public and enclosed, the diner set the stage for a rather claustrophobic assembly. he’d considered leaving his gun behind, a thought which did not last long knowing the game they played. there were measures to be had and safeguards to be kept. still, a risk or two could be taken in other ways. leaving the safety of a nest did not dull the eagle’s talons.}