[ As long as everyone that was in that garage is stuck in this town with Kilgrave, his fuck-up continues in perpetuity. Big Fucking Fuck-Up is a better name for him. Thanks, booze, she was really off her game for a while there. She dreads that he's about to open his mouth and apologize, not only a hollow gesture but one that would indicate he still doesn't understand what he's dealing with. Glib banter, she can live with, and it's been confirmed that she has to. His stupidity is on par with Kilgrave's malice insofar as the futility of trying to escape it. Besides being a dumbass, he at least seems possibly okay, but she has insufficient evidence to judge fairly. The last and only real-ish conversation they had was his remark about winter, which it wasn't in New York when she arrived here, and after all bitch this is France. What is he, a climate expert on top of a commando on top of a hot dog?
Jess is slouched and manspreading, bottle perched on top of her thigh and tethered by her hand. She has a bracing sip, considering the company. ]
You're looking at it. [ Or he might not be. Her stare is fixed ahead, she's hardly gonna detach it for small talk. ]
oh i think poe's the only one who's gonna be doing the THING tonight if ya catch my drift
Jess is slouched and manspreading, bottle perched on top of her thigh and tethered by her hand. She has a bracing sip, considering the company. ]
You're looking at it. [ Or he might not be. Her stare is fixed ahead, she's hardly gonna detach it for small talk. ]