Jason wipes his hand off on his baggy black jeans, the cookie having disappeared except for crumbs. He kicks again half-heartedly at the bench before him, twists the fabric of his hoodie with one hand.
Maybe there won't be a tomorrow. For anything, for crayons or stupid cookies. Jason opens his mouth, then shuts it again, and stares down at the court some more.
".....you should leave," he says, sounding about as half-hearted as his kicks. "It's not safe."
Of course, if Thurik the Foul rises and immolates the world in fire and stuff, it won't matter where Metody is, but, you know, it's like... it's merciful not to have to watch it, right?
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Jason wipes his hand off on his baggy black jeans, the cookie having disappeared except for crumbs. He kicks again half-heartedly at the bench before him, twists the fabric of his hoodie with one hand.
Maybe there won't be a tomorrow. For anything, for crayons or stupid cookies. Jason opens his mouth, then shuts it again, and stares down at the court some more.
".....you should leave," he says, sounding about as half-hearted as his kicks. "It's not safe."
Of course, if Thurik the Foul rises and immolates the world in fire and stuff, it won't matter where Metody is, but, you know, it's like... it's merciful not to have to watch it, right?