"Turn your heat down and keep trying, might not turn out bad." She sticks a finger in the batter and pops it in her mouth, to see if she's being wildly optimistic.
She shuts her eyes, can feel her shoulders rising towards her ears and forces them back down. "And I don't want to talk about- anything to do with that."
"Why don't you want to?" he asks quietly, stepping towards the stove so he can flip over the pancake and start on another one. "That might be an easier question to answer."
"If I actually knew, I don't think I'd be here," she mutters, pushing away from the counter. But there's not enough room in the kitchen to pace, not with two people in there.
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"Well, then what do I do with this?"
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He turns down the heat and steps back, frowning. "Okay, well, it all tastes fine with that sweet stuff anyway."
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He watches her fill the kettle. "Add enough for me?" he calls out.
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He shoves his hands in his pockets.
"You doing alright?"
It's his usual preamble into Talking About Shit. He's not subtle.
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"I'm good. Went running with that Raylan guy. Old man pace, but that's about what I'm up to right now anyway."
See, if she admits to one weakness, that's enough, right?
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"Nope, I don't know anything." But she's making tea, so she can't just ditch, can she?
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It's a reason, but not the reason she specifically doesn't want to go into this with Rags.
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"Yeah. I don't know. Maybe I do."
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"Everyone who came into my domain was someone I know. Who I brought there."
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