[ Though he might turn into a patron these days, who knows? He's feeling a bit lonely and after a few drinks and seeing her here... well, he'll pay a girl to stop dancing and maybe pat his shoulder. They keep him company sometimes when he drinks as it is. They probably pity him -- which is a thought that is unsettling.
Maybe she thought she was doing the right thing and maybe he might think the same if he knew all the details, but that's not how it works. When you get your hands that dirty, it's never going to be for the reason you think it is and it will always turn around on you and bite you in your ass.
In her case, it was potential Complete Global Saturation.
He doesn't make eye contact with her when she moves in and his heart palpitations are off the chart. Fighting monsters of all shapes, sizes, and varying in sudden appearance (sometimes behind him)? Nothing. This, though? His heart might explode. He'll feel her touch long after she's gone, wake up in the middle of the night remembering it and the way she smells and the way she looks; she'll haunt him like a ghost.
The funny part about that, though, is that he's the one that's going to die. He hasn't drowned or anything back on that ship, but he's certain when he gets back there it'll be the end of him. He's better off here, starting a new life. ]
You just said there's nothing else to be said. I'm going inside. [ He's removing himself from her personal space now, distancing himself physically in the hopes it will distance him in other ways. He dips into the entrance and opens the door -- which any other time, he'd have made sure to hold open for her. ] What you do is none of my business, Jessica. It never has been.
[ Stubborn? True. This time, it's at least more fair than ever. He doesn't wait for a response and goes into the place (which is pretty nice, actually) and heads straight for the bar. He was going to take it slow and he still would, but he needed something harder. Bourbon on the rocks. Maybe the sting would distract him.
At least until he sees or hears (of) her again. It makes him sick how much this still affects him when he should be able to brush it all aside and tell her to fuck off and leave him be. If only. ]
yep
[ Though he might turn into a patron these days, who knows? He's feeling a bit lonely and after a few drinks and seeing her here... well, he'll pay a girl to stop dancing and maybe pat his shoulder. They keep him company sometimes when he drinks as it is. They probably pity him -- which is a thought that is unsettling.
Maybe she thought she was doing the right thing and maybe he might think the same if he knew all the details, but that's not how it works. When you get your hands that dirty, it's never going to be for the reason you think it is and it will always turn around on you and bite you in your ass.
In her case, it was potential Complete Global Saturation.
He doesn't make eye contact with her when she moves in and his heart palpitations are off the chart. Fighting monsters of all shapes, sizes, and varying in sudden appearance (sometimes behind him)? Nothing. This, though? His heart might explode. He'll feel her touch long after she's gone, wake up in the middle of the night remembering it and the way she smells and the way she looks; she'll haunt him like a ghost.
The funny part about that, though, is that he's the one that's going to die. He hasn't drowned or anything back on that ship, but he's certain when he gets back there it'll be the end of him. He's better off here, starting a new life. ]
You just said there's nothing else to be said. I'm going inside. [ He's removing himself from her personal space now, distancing himself physically in the hopes it will distance him in other ways. He dips into the entrance and opens the door -- which any other time, he'd have made sure to hold open for her. ] What you do is none of my business, Jessica. It never has been.
[ Stubborn? True. This time, it's at least more fair than ever. He doesn't wait for a response and goes into the place (which is pretty nice, actually) and heads straight for the bar. He was going to take it slow and he still would, but he needed something harder. Bourbon on the rocks. Maybe the sting would distract him.
At least until he sees or hears (of) her again. It makes him sick how much this still affects him when he should be able to brush it all aside and tell her to fuck off and leave him be. If only. ]