Re: Gotham: Sam & Russ
Everything was risk. Sam was fast and wild and risks, even now that it was all tamped down by life and a bunch of fucking bullshit that left scars where everyone could see. Whatever, no point in being good and quiet, and this shit all ended eventually, and what was the point in not going for things? She didn't see any point in that, even if there was risk. Getting up every day was a risk, and going to sleep every night was a risk too.
"We can only be aware of mental representations, baby. Even your reality is filtered through your own lens, yeah? It's not this thing that's the same for everyone," she said. He wanted the anon chick, yeah? Well, he could have the fucking anon chick; she wasn't sure he'd like her very much at the end of the fucking day.
She finished her fry, and she made an attempt at picking at the burger after cutting it into four smaller pieces. "Daniel just treats me soft, yeah? Like, he's nice to me, and he can be more of a motherfucker if he's not him, like blunter, and say the shit he actually wants to say to me. Mostly about Neil, which he doesn't do anymore, so, whatever." She took a bite of the burger. "Daniel never likes the person he is, baby. He has more self-loathing than anyone I fucking know. And he's in detox. He's not better." Detox was never better than anything.
She managed to eat a quarter of her burger, and she took another few sips of the beer after his 'yeah, okay.' She was shit at elephants in the room. She was shit at saying what she was supposed to and avoiding what she wasn't. She was twenty-three going on a hundred, and Micah's arrival had her wound too tight for philosophy, yeah?
Another sip of the beer. "So, do you want to fuck me? Is this a date or friends or you trying to shove me back into my box?" Yeah, ok, so she was into blunt. Easier to follow shit that way. Sorry Sartre, and she popped another fry into her mouth.