![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[sticky entry]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/entry/sticky_entry.png){kind=small}
how's my driving?
(no subject)
Oct. 25th, 2017 10:34 pm( continued from here. )
[ it's not a big surprise that dick doesn't sleep well. he's too wrapped up in thinking about even the vaguest possibility that jason will make an appearance at the diner, farfetched as it is. he knows he overstepped, stuck his foot in his mouth ( text? ), but he doesn't exactly regret it. it's the truth, after all. he's made his fair share of mistakes, if not more, but they're family.
that means something.
it means dick picks a booth nestled in the corner of the diner instead of one by a window, taking privacy into account in the off chance jason does show up. he spends the first half hour going through files and two cups of coffee, telling the waitress he's waiting for someone. when that half hour is up, he orders disco fries because she gives him a look that's all pity.
turns out going on a nostalgia trip by yourself is still just as sad in public as it is out of it. go figure. ]