"Pffff, shut up." No, that is not the ass-kicking she's talking about. That is the fault of all their blankets and sheets and being half asleep and there being so much of him that she can't get him in her guard. See? She pays attention sometimes. Sometimes.
It's been three months and there are still things she doesn't remember entirely. That's not the case for most of the other people she's talked to about this. Kenzi's theory on that, one of many theories that she can't voice for fear of breaking these insane rules posted around town, is that she doesn't have them all back because she doesn't want them back. She's rejecting it. If you knew you were a thief living on the streets and crashing in condemned houses, constantly getting into trouble, would you want to embrace that shit when the alternative was so much better?
Not to mention, there's... parts that can't be real. Parts that she's not sure if she's made up or hallucinated and they make her seem crazy. A woman sucking some dude's face until he dies? A guy that can whistle until your brain pops? Police turning into wolves? That's not real. That's like what happens when you fall asleep with a movie on and your brain can't tell if it's a dream or not.
Rumlow kisses her and the smile becomes less strained. This is real. He's right. Maybe not all of it, but enough of it for her to want to hold on.
"You mean you aren't just hanging around for my hot bod and our insane, magnetic, sexual attraction of epicness?" She isn't. That's PART of it, obviously, but it's not the whole reason. "I wish we could just... talk. For real. But--"
Another glance upwards. Another sweep of the area. He must know by now, too. He's level headed. Blends in. An upstanding citizen. But there's an edge to Rumlow. She knows he's too smart to not see what this place is. He's not exactly one of those people that just willingly submits to this kind of shit.
no subject
It's been three months and there are still things she doesn't remember entirely. That's not the case for most of the other people she's talked to about this. Kenzi's theory on that, one of many theories that she can't voice for fear of breaking these insane rules posted around town, is that she doesn't have them all back because she doesn't want them back. She's rejecting it. If you knew you were a thief living on the streets and crashing in condemned houses, constantly getting into trouble, would you want to embrace that shit when the alternative was so much better?
Not to mention, there's... parts that can't be real. Parts that she's not sure if she's made up or hallucinated and they make her seem crazy. A woman sucking some dude's face until he dies? A guy that can whistle until your brain pops? Police turning into wolves? That's not real. That's like what happens when you fall asleep with a movie on and your brain can't tell if it's a dream or not.
Rumlow kisses her and the smile becomes less strained. This is real. He's right. Maybe not all of it, but enough of it for her to want to hold on.
"You mean you aren't just hanging around for my hot bod and our insane, magnetic, sexual attraction of epicness?" She isn't. That's PART of it, obviously, but it's not the whole reason. "I wish we could just... talk. For real. But--"
Another glance upwards. Another sweep of the area. He must know by now, too. He's level headed. Blends in. An upstanding citizen. But there's an edge to Rumlow. She knows he's too smart to not see what this place is. He's not exactly one of those people that just willingly submits to this kind of shit.
...Is he?