[ Annnnd: busted. Jefferson freezes in his tracks, looking at Rumlow with some alarm at having been caught in the middle of his smooth, stealthy exit. And even though the other man's wearing far less than Jefferson, what with the robe and shorts, he's the one who feels exposed, because the sun's out, the lights are on, and he's hardly presentable. And the scar... It wouldn't bother him so much, its exposure, if he actually knew where, with absolute certainty, it came from.
But, as it couldn't have been the work of a fantasy executioner... Sometimes, he thinks it might've been self inflicted, somehow. During one of his episodes. ]
Oh-- It's all right. [ He casts a quick glance at the door. ] I should probably leave. Thank you both for the hospitality. I... wasn't myself last night.
[ Or he was more himself than he'd been in a while. ]
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But, as it couldn't have been the work of a fantasy executioner... Sometimes, he thinks it might've been self inflicted, somehow. During one of his episodes. ]
Oh-- It's all right. [ He casts a quick glance at the door. ] I should probably leave. Thank you both for the hospitality. I... wasn't myself last night.
[ Or he was more himself than he'd been in a while. ]