[ PHRASING, but he's already spooked Brienne enough today that instead of laughing, he waits the extra couple of seconds to puzzle it out. Dancing balls. Balls for dances and courts. He's got it. ]
I feel you. When that shit sneaks up on me, it really knocks me for a loop. Look, I know you don't really know me, but if there's anything I can do...
( she has never been on this end of social status, and she must scramble to assume what he means based on what he said earlier, but she sounds incredibly stilted when she replies: )
Yes, Quentin of Ohio. I am... cool. And you are cool.
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( ...phrasing? )
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I feel you. When that shit sneaks up on me, it really knocks me for a loop. Look, I know you don't really know me, but if there's anything I can do...
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( well. )
Eventually.
( is that a little rueful amusement coming through the connection...? )
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Look, I'll leave you alone. I just--wanted to make sure we were cool. We're cool, right?
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Yes, Quentin of Ohio. I am... cool. And you are cool.
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Alright. Good night, Brienne of Tarth. I'll look for you in the morning. Fuckin...stay warm in this shithole.