jackson kenner.

question prompts.

"On the contrary, I have plenty to say. But I try to avoid wasting my wit on those who wouldn't do well in understanding it. 'You Bayou wolves aren't the smartest, and those ears are filled with muddied swamp water."

“Oh, come on. I’m not that drunk. Water’s for quitters. And I don’t quit. Unless it’s my writing, but writer’s block can be a bitch and a half. So… I get a pass for that one. Right? I’m right girls, I’m right. I just can’t write. It’s whatever,” Beck rambled, unintentionally proving the women’s point about her. Still, that’s what weddings were for, so she had no regrets about her current state. 

“You’re right, Beck. You definitely get a pass,” Elena played along, covering her laughter by taking another sip of her drink. “Although I’m not one to talk, I’m definitely a quitter. I quit cheerleading, and I quit training.” The memory reminded Elena of simpler times, and her smile sobered for a moment before the conversation redirected. 

Fiona was hardly fazed by Beck’s response, not shocked to hear she wasn’t too keen on vanilla. She’d thought it was quite obvious, and the only part that surprised her was Matt’s ignorance toward that. “Yeah, I second that. Definitely tell him.” She sat back, hands gesturing to a shrug. “The vagina wants what the vagina wants, and if he doesn’t wanna give it, then you’ll find it elsewhere. End of story. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want, cane or otherwise,” she grinned.

Conversation turning to Jackson, Fiona's gaze sought him out again, studying him closely for a moment. But she found she couldn’t look at him for long, oddly nervous at the prospect of him catching her eye whilst she was discussing him. Snorting at the word gentleman, Fiona glanced at the glasses cluttered on their table, wondering if any were still drinkable. “Please. One look at my family, any gentleman would run for the fuckin’ hills. Besides, I couldn’t handle one. I’d probably fall asleep every time we talked.” She smiled. Obviously, Jackson was both polite and chivalrous, marks of a typical gentleman, but not in ways that bored her or pissed her off. Dependable was a better word. For now. “No, he’s uh… well, we nearly fucked in the Alibi the other night. Right there at a booth, in front of everyone. But who knows, maybe that was gentlemanly?”