[He withdrew his fingers with the swat, his point made on the previous point of discussion. It was a bit too close to old times but rougher and with hints of bitterness. For him, it felt like teetering too close to the edge of a cliff where topics they would someday need to talk about where right there, but both of them would avoid it for this brief sense of truce.]

Hello pot, the kettle is calling.... At least I can take care of myself and not mope my way through what remains a second chance.

[It was a gesture that he noticed but remained unspoken towards. He knew what was happening there, and he wanted to appreciate it but held himself back from. It was rare that he could admit he missed Jack, but this might be one of those moments. He also resisted the need for self-sabotage to destroy what was between them right now.]

I don't think there are many courtrooms around these parts, and certainly no justice system. So he's a bartender now?