"I'm used to that." The reply comes quickly, her tone light and joking. The expression on her fave is almost sneering as she rest chin on her hand while watching him sprawled in front of her. It's a good, strong contrast to how she's really feeling inside. The concern, worry, guilt, hurt and relief all pulling and pushing her heart to different directions, stirring her feelings into a merciless whirlpool. But if there's one thing J's good at it's keeping the poker face.

He's pathetic and she doesn't like seeing him like this. A part of her wants to leave him, to protect herself -- and him -- from any further pain. And then there's another part, a much louder one, that wanted to stay and slap him until he gets up and stops the nonsense. The past week has made her grow sick of watching people hurt themselves.

"Care to get up and talk to me?"