( he doesn't reply to the comment about animals, thoughts otherwise occupied with how much (or little) sleep he'd managed to get. after his conversation-come-argument with bobbi, he'd — well, technically he'd slept, but it'd been fitful, short, interrupted by weird dreams of their west coast days and things that hadn't happened mixed in with arguments that definitely had. the sort of shitty night's sleep where you wake up wondering if you're hungover or tired, not quite able to work out the difference.
then he'd come here — dogs aren't judgemental, right? let alone dogs that save your life because you gave them one (1) slice of pizza right before—. oh, four-thirty. he'd maybe fallen asleep for forty-five minutes. that sucks. his life sucks. )
Clint. ( he answers on auto-pilot, blue eyes meeting yellow. ) It is a teen clubhouse. I'm not part of the club. Kate— ( heavy, pointed, despite the fact that kate isn't here. ) —Has my dog. Came to see the dog.
no subject
then he'd come here — dogs aren't judgemental, right? let alone dogs that save your life because you gave them one (1) slice of pizza right before—. oh, four-thirty. he'd maybe fallen asleep for forty-five minutes. that sucks. his life sucks. )
Clint. ( he answers on auto-pilot, blue eyes meeting yellow. ) It is a teen clubhouse. I'm not part of the club. Kate— ( heavy, pointed, despite the fact that kate isn't here. ) —Has my dog. Came to see the dog.
( smooth. eloquent. god. )
Gimme five minutes, I need coffee.