[He looked away at these pointed words, knowing the answer and being unwilling to say it. At the end of the day, when the job was done, he would return to the current safehouse with his partners and kick back with a few beers--or whatever alcohol they had. They would flip on the news, sleep, and inevitably go their separate ways. He was a social animal, he knew, but every thief was a loner to a point.
It was a lonely job.
Even in Luceti, he hadn't entirely found someone to 'come home' to. He thought he had someone in the few close friends that he had made, but they were unable to accept his nature in the end. That was fine, he could deal with it. Arguments were nothing...
He would move on, like always.
But there was no quick, witty way to answer this question. There was only Fujiko to return to the apartment to, and odds were high that she would end up on whatever plan he had in store. There was no cat, no one to make dinner.
Just his bed and his mess of a work desk, and his equally messy workshop that stood hidden in the woods behind Community House 5.
no subject
It was a lonely job.
Even in Luceti, he hadn't entirely found someone to 'come home' to. He thought he had someone in the few close friends that he had made, but they were unable to accept his nature in the end. That was fine, he could deal with it. Arguments were nothing...
He would move on, like always.
But there was no quick, witty way to answer this question. There was only Fujiko to return to the apartment to, and odds were high that she would end up on whatever plan he had in store. There was no cat, no one to make dinner.
Just his bed and his mess of a work desk, and his equally messy workshop that stood hidden in the woods behind Community House 5.
He couldn't answer. He wanted a cigarette.]