"you got a lot to tell me, but i'd rather not know." / harper, who has had enough of him telling her something
Shotgun rest across his shoulders, one arm up to support it. He was used to doing these supply runs for the township; it was funny how seamlessly Shane had fit in with them, almost as if he'd belonged there all along -- and it was nice to be appreciated. Well, mostly. Half the time he was snarking with Harper and if he were a less self-assured man he might think she meant the shit she said. She didn't. Shane passed through the aisles of the abandoned convenience store, free hand's fingers touching at the products either left behind or not picked-through, and chuckled under his breath.
"Yeah? I'm a worldly man. I know a lotta shit. Gotta mind full of wisdom to share."
He stopped short-enough to nab a box of tampons. Not even the good kind (he'd been lectured about that with his ex (the big ex, not the little meaningless ones) about the applicator and how cardboard was no better than shoving broken glass where nobody wanted it). With a shit-eating grin he moved to Harper's aisle and pressed the box into her chest.
"Got this for ya. Onna count of you bein' on your rag all the time."