<i>Relax, how in the hell does this fucking bitch expect me to relax without a fucking beer in my hands. Dammit I wish I hadn't been so nice to her, fucking son of a bitch, just give me a beer woman.</i>Those were the words that ran through Mark's mind as Eliza answered him, and talked about relaxing, dropping the routine, and something about her bag and not the right clothes. He had honestly only been half paying attention to what she was talking about. Mark's hands were shaking, not violently, but it was definitely going to be clear by now that in the short time he had stopped drinking his body was already suffering.<br/><br/>While she headed inside to change out of her clothes and into one of his shirts as he had said she could he sipped on his lemonade. Not even a hint of Vodka inside of it like he would have liked. There were thoughts about heading to her car, but he knew he wouldn't make it there and back with his beer in time. Mark also figured she was probably smart enough to have actually locked her car up which would have defeated the purpose of him walking that far anyways. Though he could have used the exercise, he was in no mood to go walking anymore. He had done enough of that at the stadium and in the store.<br/><br/>When she returned he was nearly speechless as she was adorned in his brown jersey that had his last name on the back along with his jersey number '17'. The twirl and comment she made was unnecessary, and while he did find her rather attractive in his jersey he tried hard to look disinterested in her. His hands shook inside of hers as she held onto his. The warmth from her touch seemed to calm him, her hands were soft as well, and it was completely unexpected. For probably the first time since they had met he actually believed the words coming out of her mouth. He focused on her voice, looked into her eyes, and he could see some hint of genuine compassion in there. While he was still suspicious of her overall intentions Mark decided that she might not be the devil incarnate come to torture him as he had originally made her out to be.<br/><br/>After Eliza had filled up his drink Mark took another drink of it. In some ways it helped a little bit with the thirst he was having.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"A television, yeah, I have a couple, one in the bedroom that is forty-four inches and one in the living area that is sixty inches. They both have Dish T.V. hooked up and Blu-ray players built into the sides of them. I don't exactly have a romantic movie collection, mostly action flicks and a few comedies."</span>He responded to her question without a snarky attitude in any form. He also didn't look sad, which always seemed to be the two ways that he came across when he talked to her. He knew she was trying hard to get to know him inside and out, and it would take her some work to crack his tough exterior. He was starting to break a little bit though, and he even flashed a small smile. The rain was soothing for him as well, the smell it created made him so happy he could almost suggest going for a walk, but he still felt like he had had his fill of that for the day.