[Vasquez inhales sharply through his teeth when she touches him on the thigh, forcing himself to behave with a particular set of thoughts to make sure he doesn't react, though he does scoff out the smoke when she talks about swimming.]
I don't want lessons. Why do I need to know to swim?
[Though, at least on the job front, he has better news. Smiling warmly, he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, about to tell her when she keeps going and he has to look at her in alarm.]
no subject
I don't want lessons. Why do I need to know to swim?
[Though, at least on the job front, he has better news. Smiling warmly, he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, about to tell her when she keeps going and he has to look at her in alarm.]
Hoeing? Like a prostitute?