@whatsbehindthefacade asked: i didn't feel it. it don't hurt. (from race, he's probably a liar)
jack quirks an eyebrow up, sharp and quickly. his arms cross over his chest and he tilts his head to the side. he's lying and they both know it. "yeah, sure, race," jack nods, pulling an exaggerated face of agreement.
"and pulitzer ain't a stuck up bitch neitha. y'know ya lip's still bleedin', right?" he sighs heavily, dipping into his pocket to find and produce a clean, but worn, handkerchief. "i can't take yous nowhere," he says, spitting directly onto the handkerchief and wiping the blood from race's lip that had dripped down onto his chin. "an unbelievable mess," jack says, head shaking but playfulness in his tone.
he tosses the handkerchief at race and smirks. "don't say i never did nothin' for ya."
