[Owen is - mostly - content to sit there while Shylock works, kicking his feet as he waits.
Then Shylock crumples.
Owen blinks, stilling as he watches the flames. He glances up at his face, then back down to the flames, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the bar.]
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Then Shylock crumples.
Owen blinks, stilling as he watches the flames. He glances up at his face, then back down to the flames, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the bar.]
Oh…?
[He’s grinning, now, eyes bright.]
How unlucky.
[For Shylock. Owen is having a great time.]