Her smile now a grateful one, Jill pushed her bag aside on the bar as she slid onto a stool. She crossed her arms on the polished wood, taking the time that Tifa was turned away to look momentarily thoughtful, absently tracing lines in the counter with her distracted gaze.
Was there something she wanted to talk about? There were plenty of somethings that could use a good thinking over, either because she'd put them off long enough or because avoiding them any more would make them that much more difficult to face later on. Most of the time, Jill wasn't the type to smother her feelings, anyway; hide them, yes, in regards to not wanting to trouble others, or even out of necessity when there was a bigger priority at hand -- but she never let it pass the point of being unhealthy.
The couple things she had on mind tonight -- or arguably one thing, depending on how technical she felt like being -- weren't as serious as some. There was no risk of falling into a depression or going insane or crippling herself psychologically; nothing so drastic. No, Jill was just...
...lonely, maybe. Considering how often she was surrounded with people, it was an odd thing to think, but it was a pain she'd felt before. Lonely, somewhat frustrated, and, once the alcohol got in her, probably a little wistful, too.
She really had been putting this off too long.
Neither was Jill the type to always need someone to hear her out when she was troubled, but that never hurt. Especially when she trusted Tifa, knew the feeling was mutual, and had a gut feeling that she could find some sympathy as well as compassion in the younger woman.
There was a noticeable pause before Jill replied, and she snorted softly right before she did with halfhearted amusement. Brace yourself, it said. "I'm starting to think that I've become so work-oriented lately," she began slowly, now watching the back of her hand, "that I'm losing my touch at handling what's personal." Maybe because work was so personal -- or, lately, so much of her personal life blended into work. Or maybe she'd fallen too far into the habit of using work ethics to govern what was personal.
Jill looked up at Tifa, her crooked smile a little distant. "I don't know," she went on. "I just can't help but think something's off when I can jump into some of the things I do without blinking, and then let something as normal as men throw me off." Her expression turned a shade wry there, despite herself.
lmao yes XD ...and aaaaaall the teal deerz 4 u
Was there something she wanted to talk about? There were plenty of somethings that could use a good thinking over, either because she'd put them off long enough or because avoiding them any more would make them that much more difficult to face later on. Most of the time, Jill wasn't the type to smother her feelings, anyway; hide them, yes, in regards to not wanting to trouble others, or even out of necessity when there was a bigger priority at hand -- but she never let it pass the point of being unhealthy.
The couple things she had on mind tonight -- or arguably one thing, depending on how technical she felt like being -- weren't as serious as some. There was no risk of falling into a depression or going insane or crippling herself psychologically; nothing so drastic. No, Jill was just...
...lonely, maybe. Considering how often she was surrounded with people, it was an odd thing to think, but it was a pain she'd felt before. Lonely, somewhat frustrated, and, once the alcohol got in her, probably a little wistful, too.
She really had been putting this off too long.
Neither was Jill the type to always need someone to hear her out when she was troubled, but that never hurt. Especially when she trusted Tifa, knew the feeling was mutual, and had a gut feeling that she could find some sympathy as well as compassion in the younger woman.
There was a noticeable pause before Jill replied, and she snorted softly right before she did with halfhearted amusement. Brace yourself, it said. "I'm starting to think that I've become so work-oriented lately," she began slowly, now watching the back of her hand, "that I'm losing my touch at handling what's personal." Maybe because work was so personal -- or, lately, so much of her personal life blended into work. Or maybe she'd fallen too far into the habit of using work ethics to govern what was personal.
Jill looked up at Tifa, her crooked smile a little distant. "I don't know," she went on. "I just can't help but think something's off when I can jump into some of the things I do without blinking, and then let something as normal as men throw me off." Her expression turned a shade wry there, despite herself.