Kenzi peels away, but only just, arm still hanging around his waist. Rumlow laughs at her comment, his own gaze swinging around the room. The decor is definitely not his taste either. If it is a safe house, which still seems to be the only thing that really makes sense -- except it doesn't either because it still feels like home -- then that stands to reason.
Rumlow keeps it together. Gives Kenzi a little squeeze and shrugs his other shoulder.
"I'm gonna say it was furnished," he replies, leaning slightly away as Kenzi starts to shrug out of her coat. Or rather, the coat, since it's way too big for it to be hers. Makes him wonder who lent it. A guy, obviously. Good taste. He glances at it as they walk by, Rumlow guiding them through the house until they come across the kitchen.
"I wonder if it's stocked," he says, peering down at Kenzi with brows lifted. It's a hope. Rumlow doesn't even remember the last time he ate. That he doesn't remember much at all, notwithstanding.
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Rumlow keeps it together. Gives Kenzi a little squeeze and shrugs his other shoulder.
"I'm gonna say it was furnished," he replies, leaning slightly away as Kenzi starts to shrug out of her coat. Or rather, the coat, since it's way too big for it to be hers. Makes him wonder who lent it. A guy, obviously. Good taste. He glances at it as they walk by, Rumlow guiding them through the house until they come across the kitchen.
"I wonder if it's stocked," he says, peering down at Kenzi with brows lifted. It's a hope. Rumlow doesn't even remember the last time he ate. That he doesn't remember much at all, notwithstanding.