"Thanks for the coffee."
Suffice it to say, Jacob was not expecting Lenn's biting tone when she returned. It wiped the smile from his face in an instant and he wanted to curl up again somewhere else. It hurt a little more because the wounds were still fresh and his tears had only begun to dry. Taking a sip from the cup, Jacob quietly went back to packing up like he had been before she returned, his face cold but his eyes sad.
"Nothing. I just, uh, wanted to ask what we should do with the Liquid Dream and our bloody clothes."
He didn't even turn to face her as he spoke with a monotone voice, and simply jerked a thumb over at the pen cartridges and the bag of soiled of clothes respectively. An awkward air of tension filled the room.
Jacob was back in his own head in an instant, relationship anxiety kicking-in immediately. Emotions were running high and feelings were sensitive, so he supposed there was little blame for her tone. Sadness and anger usually traveled hand-in-hand. Where one went, the other was sure to follow. Where she had initially been overtaken by sadness at their experiences, shared and individual, he surmised that anger and jealousy had quickly flowed-in. And why would she not be? He had fucked another woman. And who was he kidding? No amount of apologies or tears was going to make that go away. Offering more only made him look guilty, and was futile at best. What was he to do now? Nothing. He was just going to have to live with his actions.
(Un)fortunately, Jacob also had some experience with in that kind of situation too. While the circumstances were different, the mood and atmosphere reminded him of when his relationship with his ex-wife started breaking down. It was a terrible feeling, like walking the plank. The inevitable was coming, and nothing he could say or do was going to stop it. It made him want to punch himself, or cry again.
Suffice it to say, Jacob was not expecting Lenn's biting tone when she returned. It wiped the smile from his face in an instant and he wanted to curl up again somewhere else. It hurt a little more because the wounds were still fresh and his tears had only begun to dry. Taking a sip from the cup, Jacob quietly went back to packing up like he had been before she returned, his face cold but his eyes sad.
"Nothing. I just, uh, wanted to ask what we should do with the Liquid Dream and our bloody clothes."
He didn't even turn to face her as he spoke with a monotone voice, and simply jerked a thumb over at the pen cartridges and the bag of soiled of clothes respectively. An awkward air of tension filled the room.
Jacob was back in his own head in an instant, relationship anxiety kicking-in immediately. Emotions were running high and feelings were sensitive, so he supposed there was little blame for her tone. Sadness and anger usually traveled hand-in-hand. Where one went, the other was sure to follow. Where she had initially been overtaken by sadness at their experiences, shared and individual, he surmised that anger and jealousy had quickly flowed-in. And why would she not be? He had fucked another woman. And who was he kidding? No amount of apologies or tears was going to make that go away. Offering more only made him look guilty, and was futile at best. What was he to do now? Nothing. He was just going to have to live with his actions.
(Un)fortunately, Jacob also had some experience with in that kind of situation too. While the circumstances were different, the mood and atmosphere reminded him of when his relationship with his ex-wife started breaking down. It was a terrible feeling, like walking the plank. The inevitable was coming, and nothing he could say or do was going to stop it. It made him want to punch himself, or cry again.
