( For what it's worth, Jack is also crazy — and it is the kind of crazy that creates false narratives. He's... still kind of coming to terms with it, and a lot of it revolves around this exact gas station.
He seems to hesitate in the doorway as she wanders in, a slight downturn to his lips, his eyes distant and tracing over the shelves of off-brand snack food, the crack in the cold drink case, the sticky spill off by the frozen drink machine, the smoke detector that may or may not be an old Frisbee duct-taped to the wall.
Something weird aches.
He doesn't notice it just yet, but this is the first time he's walked into the building without an employee nametag pinned to his chest. )
Thanks, it's... it's not much, but it's mine, I guess. Still. Um. Help yourself, it's on the house.
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He seems to hesitate in the doorway as she wanders in, a slight downturn to his lips, his eyes distant and tracing over the shelves of off-brand snack food, the crack in the cold drink case, the sticky spill off by the frozen drink machine, the smoke detector that may or may not be an old Frisbee duct-taped to the wall.
Something weird aches.
He doesn't notice it just yet, but this is the first time he's walked into the building without an employee nametag pinned to his chest. )
Thanks, it's... it's not much, but it's mine, I guess. Still. Um. Help yourself, it's on the house.