[ he folds his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling with a smirk ] Every once in awhile, I leave it all behind. Start over again from scratch. Keeps me sharp.
[He has a good point and she feels a bit weird for not realizing that sort of logical reasoning, but Faith's never been big on the logic thing.]
Good point. [And now, she's at that spot where she wonders if she needs to start getting redressed and bailing on this. Which brings her to moving to sit up and glance around to start take inventory of where her clothing is.]
[ If he registers her discomfort, he doesn't show it, watching her look around with that satisfied glint in his eye. ] Plus, I've never really been all that interested in the lap of luxury. I used to hate those people. I'm not sure why I'd be in a rush to turn into them.
[Faith frowns, trying not to think about her own issues. About all the shit she saw Buffy have and how badly she wanted that. The family dinners and Christmas.]
[She glances to where he nods and then gets up to grab them and tug them on. She won't even bother with putting her panties on. Those'll fit just fine in a pocket.]
Yeah. I -- yeah, kinda. [She grabs her shirt, again not bothering with the formality of her bra, tugging it on and then moving back toward him.] I don't -- I don't do this. The whole... [She fumbles for the words, because it's really hard for her to just admit that she doesn't know how to be the girl that stays and sleeps next to the guy. That no one's ever needed that from her.]
I should just go. You gotta fence that painting... or whatever. [She does stop though and find one of those cheap ball point pens and pad of paper on the cheap desk. She jots her number down and her name on the sheet of paper.]
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msattentionspan) wrote2014-08-16 08:59 pm
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And how often are you without it?
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Is that why you've picked this motel? Have I caught you at the beginning of some starting over moment?
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Good point. [And now, she's at that spot where she wonders if she needs to start getting redressed and bailing on this. Which brings her to moving to sit up and glance around to start take inventory of where her clothing is.]
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Yeah, but you say used to.
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Mind if I ask where you came from?
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Sorry. It's none of my business. [Because she's still just a girl that he met at a bar, robbed a museum with...? and then slept with.]
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Yeah. I -- yeah, kinda. [She grabs her shirt, again not bothering with the formality of her bra, tugging it on and then moving back toward him.] I don't -- I don't do this. The whole... [She fumbles for the words, because it's really hard for her to just admit that she doesn't know how to be the girl that stays and sleeps next to the guy. That no one's ever needed that from her.]
I should just go. You gotta fence that painting... or whatever. [She does stop though and find one of those cheap ball point pens and pad of paper on the cheap desk. She jots her number down and her name on the sheet of paper.]
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Well, I gave you my number. So if you feel like sharing or a different reason, just call.
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Then I'll talk to you later. [She doesn't need him to call her, but it wouldn't be a bad thing to hear from him again.
Nooo she's not stalling to keep looking at him.]
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So she does.
And then she heads back home and really hopes that her moonlighting as an art thief doesn't get her into any trouble.]