Re: [The Mean Eyed Cat: Jack + Cat]
The future didn't yield. It didn't enter on cue or pause for conveniency, but he knew that now, with years and years unravelled from the bobbin and wound back around his bones. Neither was Cat sweet. It was too saccharine and bland and benign a word for the woman who stood behind the bar as a study in contradictions and christ alone knew what contentment looked like for her. Perhaps it was this, but it was very likely layers and layers more.
Perhaps it was the flourish and style, god knew he didn't pay attention to statements of the bleeding obvious. It was more likely that it came with an edge, a sharpened one that idled while you absorbed, ready entirely to leave you to your own devices or cut you for taking up valuable time. Either way - and Jack was not inebriated but he was on the track - he listened. "Young me didn't know what to make of you, I think. But I know I couldn't do without you and your statements of the obvious, so perhaps burning idealism on a pyre is worth it." It was perhaps, the liquor, because the blue eyes lacked bitterness.
The shadows threw themselves up along the walls and painted the lines of her in thick dark. "You're very kind," sardonic, for the compliment amidst the whole. "Opinion away after you've slumbered, I've a suspicion I've missed out on the rearrangement of my life." But he stood, and shook out the coat. "I could give you a compliment about the necessity or otherwise of the rest, but I doubt you need it said, however much you like talking about yourself." A smile, and he stood for the door.