"Sometimes dumb shit really is just stupid and impulsive and not something to feel guilty about," she points out. "But I don't know. We can just eat lunch and not talk about horrible shit if you want."
She just nods, eyes on her plate, deciding she’s fine with just dropping the subject. No more crime talk. Less tension that way, when there’s still shit she hasn’t told him.
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"Maybe that's for the best," he says, with a tight little smile at her. They are recovering from something of a spat, after all.
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