The overcast hung over the ruins as Rixo pulled a stool up to the bar, where the bartender stood in a mix of emotions between terror and bewilderment. Rixo looked at his eyes once, glanced back at the rubble, and then returned to his eyes.
"Sorry."
At that point, the bartender broke his steady gaze.
"What do you have to be sorry for? You look to be in enough of a mess yourself."
Rixo tried to hide his shoulder away from where he could see it.
"It was my fault, I shouldn't have aggravated him like that. Or at least I shouldn't have missed," Rixo coughed up a little bit of fluid from his lungs.
"How about you just help me clean up?"
That's probably what Rixo would have thought, too. The two of them began to check which chairs were still usable, and which tables were missing legs here are there.
"At least I'll be able to say this much: I'll have the only open-air bar for miles around!"
Rixo looked up at the sky, "Yes, you will." He tried to avoid looking at the bartender as he cleaned up.
