With a snort, Rook looks up from the sketch book and gives a wry look at Midnight. Ulysse definitely would appreciate it if he'd show up to work smelling of booze.
"Black's just fine," he says easily. "Don't make a fuss about it."
His gaze returns to the drawings, enjoying the shift of colours and styles across the pages. Obviously Midnight knows how to do it all like he said.
"You always knew you gonna be an artist?" he asks curiously.
"I mean..." Midnight trails off with a laugh as he pours the coffee, setting the mug down by Rook's arm. This is then quickly followed by a little plate of honey biscuits that had been kept warm in the oven. "I always liked art?"
He plops down in the stool next to Rook and helps himself to a biscuit, shrugging as he explains, "My dad was a guitarist. Mom was a painter. I guess our family sort of leans in that direction. Arie, my oldest brother, he's a musician. Ulysse was into dancing for a while..."
But with looking after his baby brother and then later their infirmed father, Ulysse had had to give up that passion, something which still twists the guilty knife in Midnight's gut. He doesn't let the sad look linger too long on his face, though, determinedly pushing on and popping a piece of pastry into his mouth as he says cheerfully, "Hopefully once things settle a bit more with the Roadhouse, he can pick that up again at least as a hobby, you know?"
"Thanks," Rook mutters when the coffee appears by his elbow. He takes a sip carefully, making sure not to burn his mouth. Then he settles to listen Midnight while he flips through the drawings some more.
"He seems to have that kind of grace," he comments. "Make sense he's a dancer."
He files away the little bits of information about his new boss. He's honest enough to admit that Ulysse has become something of a fascination for him. A fascination that will have to stay platonic unfortunately but fascination all the same.
"What kind of dancing?" he asks curiously then, not looking up from the sketchbook. So, what? He's curious. So sue him.
Midnight doesn't bother to look down at his art as the book is flipped through, focused more on watching Rook's face as he speaks. He likes studying faces, and Rook has a rather interestingly shaped on, after all. He's also contemplating asking the bouncer to model for him sometime when it's not their second meeting.
"A bit of this, a bit of that," he hums, smiling privately as he notes Rook's reserved interest for Ulysse. Hmm... "He was really into ballroom dancing, before, and dabbled a bit in contemporary on his own."
"Not interested enough to be a professional?" Rook asks. He knows something about the life of a professional athlete, especially one that competes in a field that is mostly about entertainment. It's not easy, you have to want it. A lot.
He hopes that is why Ulysse quit dancing, and not something else that forced his hand.
He doesn't realise that he's under the scrutiny of the little artist. There's plenty enough taking his attention elsewhere.
"... Nah, he had to look after me during school, and after that, we both had to focus on taking care of our father," Midnight sighs, some of that sunniness finally dimming a bit. "After he passed, Ulysse just said he was too old to even try to go pro and that he was happy staying here."
Not to mention Anton had been so very strongly against his then-boyfriend escaping out from under his thumb, let alone leaving town to pursue a career in dance, but Midnight's not up for sharing that just yet.
"There's a few clubs here, though, and I know a couple of restaurants and bars have started doing dance nights, so maybe once he can get things under control at the Roadhouse, I'll be able to convince him to take a night off here and there to go have some fun, you know?"
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no subject
"Black's just fine," he says easily. "Don't make a fuss about it."
His gaze returns to the drawings, enjoying the shift of colours and styles across the pages. Obviously Midnight knows how to do it all like he said.
"You always knew you gonna be an artist?" he asks curiously.
no subject
"I mean..." Midnight trails off with a laugh as he pours the coffee, setting the mug down by Rook's arm. This is then quickly followed by a little plate of honey biscuits that had been kept warm in the oven. "I always liked art?"
He plops down in the stool next to Rook and helps himself to a biscuit, shrugging as he explains, "My dad was a guitarist. Mom was a painter. I guess our family sort of leans in that direction. Arie, my oldest brother, he's a musician. Ulysse was into dancing for a while..."
But with looking after his baby brother and then later their infirmed father, Ulysse had had to give up that passion, something which still twists the guilty knife in Midnight's gut. He doesn't let the sad look linger too long on his face, though, determinedly pushing on and popping a piece of pastry into his mouth as he says cheerfully, "Hopefully once things settle a bit more with the Roadhouse, he can pick that up again at least as a hobby, you know?"
no subject
"He seems to have that kind of grace," he comments. "Make sense he's a dancer."
He files away the little bits of information about his new boss. He's honest enough to admit that Ulysse has become something of a fascination for him. A fascination that will have to stay platonic unfortunately but fascination all the same.
"What kind of dancing?" he asks curiously then, not looking up from the sketchbook. So, what? He's curious. So sue him.
no subject
Midnight doesn't bother to look down at his art as the book is flipped through, focused more on watching Rook's face as he speaks. He likes studying faces, and Rook has a rather interestingly shaped on, after all. He's also contemplating asking the bouncer to model for him sometime when it's not their second meeting.
"A bit of this, a bit of that," he hums, smiling privately as he notes Rook's reserved interest for Ulysse. Hmm... "He was really into ballroom dancing, before, and dabbled a bit in contemporary on his own."
no subject
He hopes that is why Ulysse quit dancing, and not something else that forced his hand.
He doesn't realise that he's under the scrutiny of the little artist. There's plenty enough taking his attention elsewhere.
no subject
"... Nah, he had to look after me during school, and after that, we both had to focus on taking care of our father," Midnight sighs, some of that sunniness finally dimming a bit. "After he passed, Ulysse just said he was too old to even try to go pro and that he was happy staying here."
Not to mention Anton had been so very strongly against his then-boyfriend escaping out from under his thumb, let alone leaving town to pursue a career in dance, but Midnight's not up for sharing that just yet.
"There's a few clubs here, though, and I know a couple of restaurants and bars have started doing dance nights, so maybe once he can get things under control at the Roadhouse, I'll be able to convince him to take a night off here and there to go have some fun, you know?"