‘ do you want to stay with us? ’
“you, uh — you run that by lori first, man? y’all were havin’ it out, last i heard, unless you wanna recant your confession. reverend shane’s a - listenin’, brother.”
he has to lighten the mood somehow, but rick knows him well enough to see right through it. they’re parked a stone’s throw from that burger joint they might as well co - own by now, cruiser idling, shane’s fingers drumming absently on the edge of the open passenger window. rick’s giving him the look — the look, the steady one with a little hitch of his brow that says his bullshit detector’s blaring louder than the radio chatter that’s bound to come through at any second. shane goes for broke and crooks a quick and easy smile, lightly backhanding his partner’s shoulder.
he’s tired, though. that much was clear even before he’d told rick that he spent last night sprawled out on the couch, far from restful, after jenna locked him out of the bedroom.
"— nah, man. look, you ain’t gotta worry about that, you know how it is. y’know, she, uh,” there’s a dry chuckle, the heel of his hand running across his jaw, “she gets pissed, right, she gets pissed ‘n for the next couple days i’m the worst thing that ever happened to her. asshole, bastard, son of a bitch — i swear to god, man, the shit that comes outta this woman’s mouth, you’d think she was fuckin’ possessed. but then, see, then she wants t’ get all sweet on me again, wants t’ — y’know, go back t’ bein’ the dutiful housewife. it’s like she’s just tappin’ her watch, just waitin’ on the proposal. prob’ly should get on that, huh.”
a knowing glance is exchanged; when he’d bought the ring three weeks ago, rick was the only person he told.
“’s just — i mean, hell. women, right? least this one knows how t’ turn off a damn light switch.”
prompt / @honestsurvival.
