Truthfully, Rue doesn't remember much about that night at Fez's. At least not after the fentanyl. Two seconds of nothing stretched into what felt like fucking hours, and next thing she knew, she was home with Jules. Nothing fucking compares to fentanyl. But at the mention of it, Rue tries not to look guilty or excited.
When she speaks, her voice is tentative, her posture cautious.
no subject
Truthfully, Rue doesn't remember much about that night at Fez's. At least not after the fentanyl. Two seconds of nothing stretched into what felt like fucking hours, and next thing she knew, she was home with Jules. Nothing fucking compares to fentanyl. But at the mention of it, Rue tries not to look guilty or excited.
When she speaks, her voice is tentative, her posture cautious.
"Oxy?" she asks, testing the waters.