#* rafael

Given their previous conversation, it might have been better to let sleeping dogs lie, but Jack had never really perfected the art of it; better they bite, in her mind. Most of the night had kept her keeping a respectable distance from people who knew her to be out of place, but even time couldn’t bide the inevitable. Two tumblers filled with two fingers of vodka and two ice cubes settled neatly in her hands as she strode through the room towards him, her hand outreached in a peace offering as she stopped before him. “Drink with me, you look miserable.”

It certainly wasn’t marked anywhere within the realms of her finer choices, and while even her loyalty could be bought, that certainly didn’t make her any less pissed when her secrets were bled out through the wrong vein. Knuckled rapped loudly against his front door, every passing second that she stood there grating a little more on her nerves. It was only when the door opened, revealing the man she was looking for that Jack offered up an icy smile, “Is Camila with you tonight? I hope not.” She didn’t do so well with kids. And before he could confirm, she shrugged her shoulders and pushed by him, refusing to give him reason to turn her away. It wasn’t until she’d made it into the living room that she stopped, once again regarding her familiar surroundings - sans his daughter - and turned on him. “Is there any particular reason why my brother is questioning me about you and whatever choices I might me making?” As far as she knew, they’d agreed to keep anything... here, tightly sealed and this wasn’t exactly how she expecting such an agreement to go. “To the grave, Raf. That’s where this was meant to go.”