( His response, believe it or not, is actually the most reassuring possibility of anything he could've said. The sharpness of it, the reprimand thinly veiling something better underneath... it reminds her of someone. It takes concentrated effort not to smile, but she manages — her mouth stays straight, but the amusement finds its way to her eyes anyway.
The best men, she's learned, are the ones that want everyone around them to believe they're an asshole, and yet can't seem to keep themselves from begrudgingly helping. Like someone's twisting their arm about it, except there's nobody actually twisting.
She develops a few theories about this man named Joel over the course of this explanation, and she's pretty confident she's right about at least a few of them. )
Okay. ( She says simply, maybe a suspiciously easy agreement considering her wariness from a second ago. ) I'll follow you.
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The best men, she's learned, are the ones that want everyone around them to believe they're an asshole, and yet can't seem to keep themselves from begrudgingly helping. Like someone's twisting their arm about it, except there's nobody actually twisting.
She develops a few theories about this man named Joel over the course of this explanation, and she's pretty confident she's right about at least a few of them. )
Okay. ( She says simply, maybe a suspiciously easy agreement considering her wariness from a second ago. ) I'll follow you.