Eddy didn't take the cash.  To Luke's surprise, he came around the counter, stopping beside him; the young man had to straighten up as best as he could in order to look up at the other, grey eyes wide.  Didn't he want the money...?<br/><br/>He stared at the bartender questioningly, simply watching him as Eddy took the wallet and then put the cash back inside; Luke let him put the whole thing away in his pocket for him, still very confused but not complaining.  If he was more sober, he might've thought Eddy pitied him, which would have been embarrassing, but he was a little ways past that level of thinking.<br/><br/>"Later.  Ok.  Later," he mimicked, nodding his head and swaying a bit on the stool.  His license showed he-- Luke Drumonde-- was 23, and the ID showed a slightly happier, less tired face.  The real thing was still pretty, still bright, but there was a difference that a tiny picture on a piece of plastic couldn't convey--the passage of time, a rough one.<br/><br/>The hand on his back made him sit up straighter, blinking at the touch; it was gentle and warm through the thin layers of his clothes, and he smiled a little, a shy look matched with the heat in his cheeks.  "Um, yeah, ok..."  Maybe Eddy would like to come inside, maybe sit with him... No, that was hoping for too much.  The guy just didn't want Luke dropping right outside his bar.<br/><br/>The young man carefully slid off the stool, catching himself with the counter to keep his balance, and he pushed his messy bangs back from his forehead.  He felt hot, toasted from the inside out, and there was a flush that highlighted the freckles across his nose and cheekbones.  "I don't live far... S'not fancy..."<br/><br/>He found himself leaning into Eddy's touch; it was reassuring and steady, grounding when the floor felt so fluid.  Luke glanced up at the bartender again and flashed that sweet smile, slow and unfurling like a flower on his lips.  "You... you're being really nice...  You do this for everyone who gets blasted...?"