At first, the bartender seemed surprised or even off-put by Luke's responses; maybe he'd expected something tougher, more like a "hey, that's too bad" or "buck up, could be worse" kind of attitude, but the young man had a hard time thinking like that.  He'd been called 'sensitive', both in good and bad terms, and perhaps it was true...  But then Eddy smiled, and Luke relaxed into the little bit of warmth that crooked, disused expression added to the older man'a face.<br/><br/>He watched him rub at his cheek, heard the oh-so-quiet rasp of his massive fingers against his beard; that smile really was nice, too nice...  Luke was starting to like it, the way it looked, carved into the creases and splitting the rocky exterior away.  Maybe, if he remembered it enough, he might be able to draw it later... Though that seemed unlikely.  His head was already growing heavy, lulled by the tv noise and the rain and the conversation.<br/><br/>Luke brought his refilled glass to his lips, then registered Eddy had asked him something.  "Hm?"  It clicked, and he blinked, then gave a slightly embarrassed laugh, shrugging his thin shoulders noncommittally.  "Not much of a story.  Shit hit the fan a while ago, and just stuck and kept spinning."  He took a bigger drink, and winced, wrinkling his nose.  Freckles; he liked the teasing name, too much.  Gotta keep it together...<br/><br/>"Just had a bad day.  You kind of don't end up somewhere like here if you're doing great...  No offense."  The smile quirked back up, but it was tired again, the brilliance faded.  "I just want to get blitzed and then wake up wishing I was dead."