Day 20: In Which He Hoboes
He groaned, pushing his laptop to the side. He was so done with home officing. He rubbed his eyes, the effort of opening them again far too strenuous for his exhausted self.
Elsa's door slid open, and her voice reached his ears. "Somebody is letting their beard grow," she said.
Jack dropped his head back and looked upside down at her. He scratched his five o'clock shadow as she crossed the balcony with a watering can in her hands. "Hey, Elsa. How are your plants doing?"
She hummed. "Since when are you interested in my botanical hobbies?"
Jack shrugged. "You're right. I couldn't care less about your plants."
"Gee, I appreciate your honesty." Elsa continued to handle her precious babies, and he watched her out of pure boredom. Sensing his eyes, she looked up with an arched eyebrow. "Are you seriously growing a beard now?"
He lifted his chin, giving her a clearer view of his stubble. "Yeah. What do you think?"
"You look like a hobo."
Jack laughed. "That's exactly the aesthetics I was going for, thanks."
"It wasn't—You know what? You do you. Go on and live your best hobo life, Jack."
The itch to write the "Thank you"/"It Wasn't a compliment" gag again is real.
