Wear and Tear [Bog, Open]

[Chørd]

Despite her being cheap - and a whore coming cheap normally meant she didn't come clean, or didn't come skilled - this girl had not been half bad. No sooner had the afterglow of the act wore off did Matthew start contemplating paying her for the whole night (or had he already?) and he was about to put the offer to her when she beat him to it and spoke up first.

He merely stared at her for a moment before his eyebrows rose slightly in mild amusement and a smile tugged at his lips.
"The day I have no alcohol left is a day for concern," he teased her, then waved his hand in the general direction of wherever he'd set the bottle down to. "Help yourself. And pour me some too."
He liked this girl, he decided, despite the fact he'd forgotten her name. She at least had a little personality to her, as opposed to other whores he looked at him like frightened rabbits, or simply did as they were bid without any teasing, flirting or enthusiasm.

"Do I owe you another tuppence for the night, or have I paid what's due?" He asked, propping himself up a little as he waited for her to get their port.

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[Bog]

Being given permission to help herself was hardly necessary, for Hannah was already pouring herself a healthy three inches of port. She refilled his glass after a slight hesitation and held the drinking vessel out to him.

"Ya've paid, cully," she replied. "But fer th' night, it's extra, if yer wantin' extra."

It wouldn't surprise her in the least if that was how he decided. Boys. She sipped at her port, this time respectful of the drink's potent flavour. This really wasn't bad stock, she supposed. Not like she was an expert in such things, anyway.