[ It's not what he expects to hear, though truth be told, Jefferson's not quite sure what reaction he was expecting. Disgust, probably, at his weakness. Or wariness over the fact that there's something just not right about him. But this is something closer to solidarity... ]
I have... [ Why should such a simple question be so difficult for him? Maybe it's because he's drunk that he stumbles over it, then practically chokes on his response. ] I don't have anyone.
[ And the sad thing is, it rings so true, even through all the memories muddled with fantasies swirling around in his head. He may not know which way's up or down, but he knows he has nobody.
But, hey, at least this extra layer of sadness makes him go a bit loose limbed and easy to drag around-- preferably to someplace to sit down while Rumlow shoves some water at him. ]
no subject
I have... [ Why should such a simple question be so difficult for him? Maybe it's because he's drunk that he stumbles over it, then practically chokes on his response. ] I don't have anyone.
[ And the sad thing is, it rings so true, even through all the memories muddled with fantasies swirling around in his head. He may not know which way's up or down, but he knows he has nobody.
But, hey, at least this extra layer of sadness makes him go a bit loose limbed and easy to drag around-- preferably to someplace to sit down while Rumlow shoves some water at him. ]