Wish You Were Beer

Aw poor Cel, she was always so uptight, keeping her feelings so densely packed in the tiny box she allotted for it. Why, she moved with such grace, but Zo didn't know how she didn't hop and jerk like a puppet on a string with the way she was. Still, he had nothing but unadulterated adoration for her. She had been a sweet girl, and the loss of her arm had only given her a hard shell to hide behind, nothing more. As a young lady, she happened to be rather judgmental and more than a little bit of a wet blanket, but Zo could have a good time in almost any kind of situation, even with Cel's disapproving stare. 

His grin only widened and he neared her, his beer-breath washing over her. 

"Ye'd solve all yer issues if ye had a lil roll in th' hay with a decent partner." He held out one hand. "Something to do." He held out the other. "Someone to do something with." 

He laughed at the look on her face and ordered another pitcher for his table, also ordering some food. He encouraged Cel to get something for herself, what with all the running around she'd just done. When the order was squared away and the pitcher brought to their table by an eager lad making goo-goo eyes at him, Zo turned his attention back to Cel. 

"Been traveling, here an' there. Doin' work, gen'rally takin' it easy. Y'don't really 'preciate my stories, so I won' bore ye."