[ "I didn’t think I wanted more." gives Day pause, for the briefest of moments. To him, it sounds rather lonely, though perhaps he isn't one to talk when it's debatable whether he had many friends before he moved to the city either. ]
I think you're easy to talk to too. 'Course I want to be friends.
Why the different attitude now? Ginger doesn’t really know. Maybe it’s because Rum’s not here and Ginger has nothing to be possessive of. And Ginger… he needs something. There’s an itch in him that - needs.
… Is it okay to let Day be a part of that? Maybe he should warn him… ]
[ Day, who doesn't quite realise what exactly he's agreeing to: ]
I ain't plannin' on it.
[ Not of his own will, anyway. He still doesn't know what an angel is, but... Once all is said and done, time and distance will wear on, even if by some chance Ginger could remember him. ]
[ A pause, like he's trying to reconcile what he's seeing right now with what he knows about demons, and it's going...somewhere (nowhere). Ginger's so different from what he does know about demons back home; things so far outside the realm of mortal comprehension and sensibility that any meeting between the two tends to end in disaster. ]
...All I can say is you're pretty different from the demons back home?
Good, 'cause the ones back home ain't usually benign.
[ He is missing the point because he's not entirely sure what Ginger being a half-demon has to do with this. Now that Ginger's brought it up though, it starts to sink in that Ginger isn't the least bit mortal. That means...
...It's such a selfish thing of him to want to ask, but he still does. ]
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