Re: NY Loft Hostel: Jack/Imogen
He took the napkin from her, folding it up and tucking it into his book for safekeeping with the sort of respect offered to a good poem. He didn't necessarily know what he wanted anymore either, but at least a studio felt like a start, something concrete, something that didn't need to be chased and that didn't bleed.
He smiled faintly when she cited her reasoning for rushing off to the showers. "Then don't let me keep you," he said. It wasn't fair, her being in a place like this, living in a hostel and working in a strip club when she had real talent. Well maybe the future he'd outlined for himself could do some good that didn't involve needing to strike anyone down, the kind of small good most people contented themselves with. Maybe that could be enough.