Bruce pulls a piece of toast from his mouth, swallowing quickly as he grabs his coffee. The pencil behind his ear. "G'morning. Sorry, I thought you might sleep in." Army types, they never could sleep in. Bruce abandons his notes and makes up a plate of the now scrambled eggs and bacon, setting it at a place for the man at the table.
"Coffee black?" he asks, not sure if he takes anything in it.
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2015-10-31 12:41 am (UTC)"Coffee black?" he asks, not sure if he takes anything in it.