[It's not a casual fuck you but it's not an angry one, either, not the kind of fuck you that would keep Hank from holding the door to his room open and waving Connor inside with a tight, sarcastic grin. It's not like Hank could stop this conversation happening anyway, even if he was that angry.]
And I understand that everything you told me was fucking stupid, so I guess we're even, or something.
After a second he'll leave the door open for Connor to deal with, to come in and close or not, and walk over to drop his ass down onto the mattress. It's a weird mattress, older than old fashioned, so it doesn't really give that satisfying bounce when you throw yourself onto it, but he tries anyway, looking around and grimacing and then reaching down into the couple inches between the bedframe and the wall. The way he's leaning makes his pants leg ride up far enough to show his ankle and the big, ugly marks all over it from the mermaid's loving attention earlier. His expression tightens, looking at it, because of course he hadn't known that should be hurting at all. He can't help but pick out the little details: Finger shaped bruises, like you'd expect. Sucker marks, which, well, sure. Also kind makes sense. Little dried blood trails where her claws probably were, yeah, that make sense too. Nothing surprising there, except in the way he hadn't known any of it was there at all, and he takes a sharp breath, looking away to see if the hand he's got digging behind the bed is hitting anything yet.]
Well, come on, do you want to get your little experiment over or what?
no subject
[It's not a casual fuck you but it's not an angry one, either, not the kind of fuck you that would keep Hank from holding the door to his room open and waving Connor inside with a tight, sarcastic grin. It's not like Hank could stop this conversation happening anyway, even if he was that angry.]
And I understand that everything you told me was fucking stupid, so I guess we're even, or something.
After a second he'll leave the door open for Connor to deal with, to come in and close or not, and walk over to drop his ass down onto the mattress. It's a weird mattress, older than old fashioned, so it doesn't really give that satisfying bounce when you throw yourself onto it, but he tries anyway, looking around and grimacing and then reaching down into the couple inches between the bedframe and the wall. The way he's leaning makes his pants leg ride up far enough to show his ankle and the big, ugly marks all over it from the mermaid's loving attention earlier. His expression tightens, looking at it, because of course he hadn't known that should be hurting at all. He can't help but pick out the little details: Finger shaped bruises, like you'd expect. Sucker marks, which, well, sure. Also kind makes sense. Little dried blood trails where her claws probably were, yeah, that make sense too. Nothing surprising there, except in the way he hadn't known any of it was there at all, and he takes a sharp breath, looking away to see if the hand he's got digging behind the bed is hitting anything yet.]
Well, come on, do you want to get your little experiment over or what?