“So fucking dramatic.” It wasn’t said with malice or disgust, but an old familiar way, words well-worn but not unliked. It’s the same way he talked about Wash, the same eye roll as he said it, the same sigh because there had to be a way to do things that didn’t sound like they belonged in a movie or a book or some shit. Maybe this shit was in their DNA.

The question caught him off guard, and he turned all the way around to face him, confusion written all over his eyes. “Like ‘Fight Club’? I mean, I’d totally be Brad Pitt and you’d be Edward Norton, but—I mean, not really?” His shoulders rolled as he took a step closer, having an idea of where this was going, but not sure if he was a hundred percent on board yet. Shit like this was a little heavier than he liked to get dragged into.

“If you’re looking for someone to kick your ass just because you feel like shit, come back when you’re not drunk and maybe. I mean, sure, ladies love scars and you might get a sympathy lay, but I don’t want everyone to think I’m an asshole, either.” A little smirk played over his lips.

"Besides, it wouldn't be a fair fight considering how much of a badass I am."