[He's not fooling her. It doesn't matter how brief that look of joy is, it's enough to light her up in answer because that right there - despite the mask and the fights and her tears and anger and his greed and paranoia and how fucked it all is - that look is everything she wanted. And he's a picture on it, the smile on his face and those long, long legs that she'd been a little worried about because she'd had to communicate his height with guesses and a hand held over her head in approximation. It's perfect. He might hide all his feelings behind a stony expression but it's just another variation of what she does with anger and snark, and right now she's definitely not buying what he's selling.
She settles in front of him with a complete lack of elegance, laughing at the skippity-hop movement she has to make to do so and the fact that she's really got no idea what she's doing.]
Alright, we good?
[Am I doing this right is what she means, but she's at least temporarily pleased enough not to think on that any further and listen to all the different ways in which the answer is no.]
no subject
She settles in front of him with a complete lack of elegance, laughing at the skippity-hop movement she has to make to do so and the fact that she's really got no idea what she's doing.]
Alright, we good?
[Am I doing this right is what she means, but she's at least temporarily pleased enough not to think on that any further and listen to all the different ways in which the answer is no.]