Thinking about Jeanne and Deacon again. They didn't get along at first (peak Deacon/anyone dynamic) and on Deacon's end that was the sign of a healthy ecosystem. It meant his barriers and walls were effective against this person he felt he needed to cajole and prod into helping the Railroad while keeping her from getting to know him in any meaningful way.
And then one night, she makes him tea. It's hubflower. His favorite. He tries not to telegraph his preferences in order to remain a blank slate. But somewhere in the months of working together he must have slipped up. An offhand comment, making it too many nights in a row...he can't remember. And that's just part of the problem.
She offers him a cup of hubflower tea, and a quiet "I noticed you like it," and they sit in silence for a while because for once Deacon doesn't know what to say.
He doesn't want to ruin the rise of warmth between them. She's been hostile and he's been annoying and frankly it's exhausting. Maybe he can let his guard down a little. Change up the dynamic. Maybe they'll be more effective partners if he lets her in a little. Maybe she's lonely. The tea could be a peace offering.
These are the things he tells himself.
And there are things he doesn't tell himself. That maybe it feels good to have someone like Jeanne to lean on. Someone who notices him, someone who takes the time to offer him the kindness of a cup of tea. He doesn't tell himself these things because it would make his skin crawl. He doesn't tell himself because if he admitted that the cup of tea warmed more than his hands as they sat in companionable silence, he'd have to double down on being an asshole to push her away.
He won't... he can't admit he wants the warmth. Because if he did, he'd have to walk away.
And he doesn't want to walk away.