“maybank? you’re goin’ on fuckin’ date with maybank?” rafe barks, and you sit back at the table. you’re at the country club, and rafe is grabbing the attention of all the surrounding tables with his tone.
you shoot the family with the toddlers sitting next to you and your trio of boys an apologetic look, turning your gaze to rafe and hardening.
“shut up, rafe,” you say with a smile, trying not to discern any more attention from nearby strangers. the waitress comes by again, and you smile at her. “can i get a lemo-”
“we need a minute. go.” rafe snaps at her, and she shoots him a look dirtier than the one the parents the table over had.
“that was so rude, rafe. what is wrong with you?” you question, rolling your eyes. you reach into your purse to pull out your compact and your lip gloss while topper and kelce sit back and watch the show, taking it in.
“i don’t fuckin’ care what it was. you’re not going out with that pogue-” on cue, you roll your eyes again. “do that again and i’ll smack ‘em out your fuckin’ head.”
you snap the compact shut, huffing at your so-called friend.
“you can’t tell me what to do.”
“the fuck i can’t-”
“you’re my friend, remember? not my dad.”
“watch your fuckin’ mouth or i’ll go tell your dad-”
“he’s not gonna care! he actually wants me to have fun, unlike you.” you turn to kelce and topper, who are snickering to themselves. “are you idiots gonna help me? or just keep laughing like little girls?”
“those pogues are bad news,” top finally throws in. “maybe you should listen to rafe.”
“for once,” rafe mutters.
“i heard that, asshole,” you shoot back. you turn away from top and rafe, focusing on kelce and smiling sweetly. “aren’t you on my side, kelce?” you bat your lashes quickly—it always works on him.
“sorry princess. i’m with rafe on this one.” you roll your eyes again.
“thank you. thanks. you gonna listen now?” rafe asks, his gaze planted firmly on you. it wanders just for a second—the blue dress you’re wearing today is one of his favorites. “those fuckin’ pogues sunk top’s boat. you-you gonna ignore that just ‘cause he throws you a line?”
“you’re a jackass, rafe.” the mom at the table next door is throwing you the dirty look now. “you’re all just assuming it was them since you wanna have a reason to torment them. you have no proof, besides your stereotypical-”
“actually, there’s a video of it. heyward and your little boyfriend,” top throws in, and you turn to stare at him with your angry gaze. rafe is staring too, mad that topper even referred to him as your anything.
“oh. sorry about your boat top-” you concede finally.
“thanks.”
“but i’m not canceling my date.”
“what’s it gonna take for you to see those pogues for what they are, huh? they’re not like us, kid. they’re fuckin crazy-”
“crazier than you? hard to believe.”
“ready to order?” the waitress asks, not nearly as chipper as before.
“yes!”
“no.”
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I do love how, given how quickly things just progressed, Wolfwood had to have started back toward July before the vines started receding, probably right after talking to Zazie. Even with how ridiculously fast that man can run it’s been about two minutes since Vash pulled back his vines.
He could have fled and done his best to live what little of his own life remained, maybe tried to protect the orphanage again, but as we saw in the previous episode, his own words came back to haunt him:
He made his choice.
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