[She looks at him with his greasy hair and grey beard, the sweat on his neck and the motor oil on his hands. She wants to touch him. She wonders if he fucks hard.]
[(The aphrodisiacs she doesn't know are in the tea and starting to kick in.)]
Nah. Didn't wanna go back in. Hey, d'you wanna, uh. Go out some time?
[ For a moment he doesn't understand what she's asking. He squints at her until it clicks, then he has to turn away to hide how he's immediately worrying his lip between his teeth. He drops the wrench in the tool box and it's noisier than it needed to be. Awkward. ]
I don't 'go out'.
[ But for once Daryl hears how that sounds when he says it. Normal people do what she's doing, even though he has no idea why she'd ask him. He feels a hot prickle start up on the back of his neck and he takes another swig of the tea to buy time, to stop his throat from getting any tighter. ]
[As much as Joan enjoys assertive, commanding presences, Rubilykskoye has opened her eyes to the appeal of shy bashfulness. She wonders how shy he'd be while she was touching him. She's sure, in this moment, that she could give him a good time. It would be a kindness. (A selfish kindness. It would be incredibly erotic, she is also sure.)]
[So she gives him space. Lets him take his time.] I'm not great, either. Shocker, I know. [She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.] But I like you, and you're very fucking nice to look at.
[And very much in her league, and kind, empathetic, knows his way around an engine, and-] I wouldn't mind giving you a good time. However you wanna do it.
[ She's watching him and Daryl feels like something on a butcher's counter, something that looks good. Something for sale. ]
Don't-- [ A wall goes up with the word, ] Talk about it like that. Like it's a favor.
[ A party gift. He's never going to get used to how sex is just offered here, bartered, traded. Sometimes taken. He gives her a long look, trying to read her while simultaneously trying to lock himself away. Become a surly mask instead of an obviously confused old man. ]
[If Joan were pretty, she's sure this wouldn't happen. It's not that Daryl thinks she's ugly, exactly, but it wouldn't be so easy to reject her if she looked like a model, like everybody else here does. At this point, it's absurd to take it personally. It doesn't mean anything. It's just how life is.]
Yeah, well, I'm pretty cheap.
[That was pure bitterness, entirely unworthy of the kindness Daryl has shown her, unrelentingly if stubbornly applied. She shakes her head.]
Look, it's whatever. Just an offer, you know. [She looks away, frowning.] All I'm saying is-... thanks. For checking on me. That's all.
[She takes a step back, clearly preparing to turn tail and leave.]
[ It comes out a little defensive. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. Hadn't considered that someone who could offer it like it was nothing might still get cut with a 'no'.
He feels the old twist of bitterness that she'd made him have to say it. He sets his jaw a little harder to fight his pitching stomach. ]
You're welcome. [ A statement, final, like it's something she can't argue with. ] I'd do it again, too. Like it or not.
[And maybe that's the problem. She feels too comfortable with that normalcy, and it's causing her to expect more of Daryl than he ever signed up to give. Is she taking advantage of him? It feels likely. She takes advantage of everything in this place. Ruins everything good.]
[Mavis' image flashes through Joan's mind. Self pity. She needs to get over herself. She needs to leave.]
Yeah. I get that. Stay safe, Daryl. And if you find an ethanol car- [She makes the old-fashioned sign for 'phone' with her hand, thumb and pinky extended-] Call me.
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no subject
[(The aphrodisiacs she doesn't know are in the tea and starting to kick in.)]
Nah. Didn't wanna go back in. Hey, d'you wanna, uh. Go out some time?
[She is trying to be gentle.]
no subject
I don't 'go out'.
[ But for once Daryl hears how that sounds when he says it. Normal people do what she's doing, even though he has no idea why she'd ask him. He feels a hot prickle start up on the back of his neck and he takes another swig of the tea to buy time, to stop his throat from getting any tighter. ]
I'm a lousy date.
no subject
[So she gives him space. Lets him take his time.] I'm not great, either. Shocker, I know. [She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.] But I like you, and you're very fucking nice to look at.
[And very much in her league, and kind, empathetic, knows his way around an engine, and-] I wouldn't mind giving you a good time. However you wanna do it.
no subject
Don't-- [ A wall goes up with the word, ] Talk about it like that. Like it's a favor.
[ A party gift. He's never going to get used to how sex is just offered here, bartered, traded. Sometimes taken. He gives her a long look, trying to read her while simultaneously trying to lock himself away. Become a surly mask instead of an obviously confused old man. ]
I ain't lookin' for cheap shit.
no subject
Yeah, well, I'm pretty cheap.
[That was pure bitterness, entirely unworthy of the kindness Daryl has shown her, unrelentingly if stubbornly applied. She shakes her head.]
Look, it's whatever. Just an offer, you know. [She looks away, frowning.] All I'm saying is-... thanks. For checking on me. That's all.
[She takes a step back, clearly preparing to turn tail and leave.]
no subject
[ It comes out a little defensive. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. Hadn't considered that someone who could offer it like it was nothing might still get cut with a 'no'.
He feels the old twist of bitterness that she'd made him have to say it. He sets his jaw a little harder to fight his pitching stomach. ]
You're welcome. [ A statement, final, like it's something she can't argue with. ] I'd do it again, too. Like it or not.
π?
[And maybe that's the problem. She feels too comfortable with that normalcy, and it's causing her to expect more of Daryl than he ever signed up to give. Is she taking advantage of him? It feels likely. She takes advantage of everything in this place. Ruins everything good.]
[Mavis' image flashes through Joan's mind. Self pity. She needs to get over herself. She needs to leave.]
Yeah. I get that. Stay safe, Daryl. And if you find an ethanol car- [She makes the old-fashioned sign for 'phone' with her hand, thumb and pinky extended-] Call me.