[ he actually snorts at the sight of the coke. it's not classy, no, (or what he'd drink if given the choice), but it's indicative of this sloppy situation. with a ragged exhale, fitz drags both hands back through his hair. ]
Hey. [ so, this is SHIELD. no failsafes, no plans. when she sets the food and drink on the counter, he claps one hand on her shoulder, a fleeting reassurance. any skin-on-skin could compound their grief. ] Guess we should've planned for this.
[ said as he sorts glasses and pours them shots. spy's goodbye, in a way. ]
no subject
Hey. [ so, this is SHIELD. no failsafes, no plans. when she sets the food and drink on the counter, he claps one hand on her shoulder, a fleeting reassurance. any skin-on-skin could compound their grief. ] Guess we should've planned for this.
[ said as he sorts glasses and pours them shots. spy's goodbye, in a way. ]