He swallows, trying to get the feel of sandpaper out of his mouth.
"Up a bit early? Can't wait to get back to real civilization?" He emphasized it just enough to twist it in and poke fun at her prettiness. Why did he go and do that? He thought about it for a moment as he studied her expression and the way her neck curved to her shoulder. Why'd he have to go making fun of her?
My fingertips are holding Onto the cracks in our foundation And I know that I should let go But I can't.
Before she could reply, he stepped up beside her and folded his hands behind her back, as though surveying the cargo bay. Inara always made him into something he wasn't. A prudish stiff gorram fool, or a stammering jackass. It didn't matter. At the moment, he must've looked like he had a stick so far up his rear that it was tickling his brainpan.
And every time we fight I know it's not right Every time you're upset and I smile I know I should forget, but I can't.