( she shrugs at first, a casual little gesture of inattention and uncertainty that doesn't mean much more than it seems to. but she doesn't answer right away, either; instead, her gaze drops down to the nail file in her lap, fingertips twisting it over and over to expose each painted side of the emory surface. )
I don't know. ( it irritates her a bit, if she's honest, that he's asked the question. how is she supposed to know that? ) Like, the twenties?
( it's a complete bullshit guess. she has absolutely no money on that answer whatsoever. )
Nobody wears a pedostache like that anymore, so...
no subject
I don't know. ( it irritates her a bit, if she's honest, that he's asked the question. how is she supposed to know that? ) Like, the twenties?
( it's a complete bullshit guess. she has absolutely no money on that answer whatsoever. )
Nobody wears a pedostache like that anymore, so...