[ when johnny had gone back into stasis, she’d drunk herself into a stupor, fucked anyone who’d let her (including eggsy, not that she’s told him that was what that had been about) and fought too much.
he’s still there. in stasis. alive but unmoving.
she doesn’t want eggsy’s pity, but she doesn’t draw her hand away either. ]
[ he nods. it must only be a small comfort, after what she saw. ]
My best mate's under, too. She went back a few months ago.
[ so he understands, as much as anyone can, with all their diverging relationships. he uses his free hand to down his glass, face scrunching up after. still not a pro whiskey drinker, it seems. ]
Mh. [ dutch hums, non-comittally. it's that or say something along the lines of and why should i care? — it's the reaction khlyen would expect of her. she shouldn't care, at least not if khlyen has any say about it. he doesn't, of course. she ran away from him for a reason. she chose freedom and johnny over a life of killing for khlyen. over a life without a heart and a soul.
but it's hard remembering that when johnny's gone.
still, eggsy's hand is warm against hers and it's a comfort and maybe, maybe she's just tired. maybe she's tired of fighting herself all the time. she empties the rest of her drink. ]
You're a wimp. [ she says. about the scrunched-up face, not his best mate's being under. and then she tips her body to the side a little until she's leaning against his shoulder. not quite his arm, she's mindful enough of that. ]
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no subject
he’s still there. in stasis. alive but unmoving.
she doesn’t want eggsy’s pity, but she doesn’t draw her hand away either. ]
He’s still there.
no subject
My best mate's under, too. She went back a few months ago.
[ so he understands, as much as anyone can, with all their diverging relationships. he uses his free hand to down his glass, face scrunching up after. still not a pro whiskey drinker, it seems. ]
no subject
but it's hard remembering that when johnny's gone.
still, eggsy's hand is warm against hers and it's a comfort and maybe, maybe she's just tired. maybe she's tired of fighting herself all the time. she empties the rest of her drink. ]
You're a wimp. [ she says. about the scrunched-up face, not his best mate's being under. and then she tips her body to the side a little until she's leaning against his shoulder. not quite his arm, she's mindful enough of that. ]