"Yeah. In the same city would be fine," he replied with a laugh. "Where we can bump into each other at grocery stores or Wal-Mart or something, but ... where we can go to our own places if we want, too."
Supposed to get. He didn't miss that, and it briefly pulled his lips into a grimmer expression. Was it likely, or just possible, that they'd end up walking away with nothing but their lives and their scars if they made it through the year? It was getting harder and harder to delude himself into believing this was actually the show it proclaimed itself to be. Too much didn't fit -- like the never-ending trickle of newcomers instead of starting with a full cast. The deaths. The things that couldn't possibly be interesting to an audience -- like hallucinations. Like phobias.
"Yeah," he said quietly instead of elaborating or voicing his thoughts. It wouldn't serve any purpose tonight with her. Maybe he'd hit up Jaime and Mike at some point later, drag them into a legit discussion.
He opened up the door once they'd climbed his porch and pulled it open before gesturing her inside so he could close it behind himself. "Sure thing," he said. "One of yours or one of mine? Mine're mostly full of explosions and car chases," he admitted with a quiet laugh. But hey, maybe she was into that.