❛ — Yeah… you did, ❜ he only sounds slightly annoyed. Slightly.
It’s almost like she’s intentionally trying to do things to piss him off or distance him from her; literally and figuratively. They’ve spent quite a bit of time together lately, and maybe that’s something she isn’t thrilled about. He’s already got the idea that she doesn’t like getting CLOSE to people.
He’s not exactly sure WHAT he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the bemused chuckle he heard just now. Pursing his lips, he forces the corners of his mouth into a halfhearted and clearly not sincere smile. Part of him wants to just LEAVE her here on principle, but they kind of have something they’re in the middle of.
❛ Okay, Jess? ❜ There’s a pissy sort of emphasis on the way he says her name. It’s definitely intentional. ❛ Dunno if you knew this or not, but you’re a P.I. – and you’re on a case. Answering your phone is kind of apart of the package. Unless all of those TV shows and movies I’ve seen with P.I.’s in them are wrong, hell yeah I’m gonna question it. ❜
looks like mr. brightside might be turning over a new leaf. sticking up for himself like that
is a good way to catch jessica off guard, after all, something he’s only managed to do
through stupidity in the past. “ scott, “ she shoots him a sidelong glare, plucking a
modestly sized bottle of liquor from the shelf, “ you realize i get phone
calls that are unrelated to my cases, right? “
little about the way she speaks to him conveys even a modicum of respect.
that’s something he’s got to deal with, since she does it to everyone; best
get him used to it now & give him the opportunity to outline the intricacies
in her personality. the subtle telltales of affection, friendship & esteem.
certain emotions are worn on her sleeve, but the more meaningful
ones lay buried within the pages of her closed book.
“ you’re worse than a sober companion. you know that, right? “
which implies that she’s suffered that bit in the past.
“ that was trish. trish walker. has her own talk show on the radio? “
she’s striding down the aisle & making her way to the cash register near the entrance.
a hand works at her pocket, pulling free a dingy little wallet with crumpled bills peeking
from the tri-fold. “ she’s a friend of mine. one i don’t feel like talking to right now.
not that i owe you a fucking explanation. “