Jo takes the other side of a booth from him, picking up her fries even as she stretches out her legs and puts her feet up against the near lip of his booth seat under the table. It's almost a compliment, and it's almost something she takes back the moment she gets her feet flat. But it stays, and she eats a fry instead. Hot on her tongue, salted and greasy. It tastes like home.
She'd say it feels the most like home she has in forever. But it's a lie.
She knows her own lies by their feel, and she doesn't want to look at what that most actually is.
no subject
Jo takes the other side of a booth from him, picking up her fries even as she stretches out her legs and puts her feet up against the near lip of his booth seat under the table. It's almost a compliment, and it's almost something she takes back the moment she gets her feet flat. But it stays, and she eats a fry instead. Hot on her tongue, salted and greasy. It tastes like home.
She'd say it feels the most like home she has in forever. But it's a lie.
She knows her own lies by their feel, and she doesn't want to look at what that most actually is.
"Next question." And another fry.