"Hell yeah," Marcus agreed enthusiastically. He wasn't quite sure if he was more excited about the prospect of getting drunk, or the idea that he and Blue were getting along well enough to conspire together to, indeed, get drunk. He carefully slid the bottle of whiskey down the side of his backpack, snug between the wall of the bag and the piles of canned and dried food he'd managed to swipe. He swung his backpack over a shoulder and tested the weight of it before he slid the other strap on. "So what do you make of that Russell guy?"<br/>________________________________<br/><br/>Jenessa sighed dramatically and scooted from beside Russell, to sitting behind him with her legs tucked daintily underneath her. "It is," she agreed, somewhat cockily. She continued to work at his neck and back, trying to massage out some of the more egregious knots in his muscles. She might've even remarked on how much easier he needed to take it, but Russ wouldn't have listened. "But I want you to<span style="font-style: italic">understand</span>why it's fine. So, just humor me for a minute." She didn't wait for any sort of affirmatives or protests before she continued. "Lex<span style="font-style: italic">is</span>my husband, for whatever legally-binding marriage is worth these days. Just because I served him some papers doesn't mean that we successfully got a divorce. And, on that note, just because we're<span style="font-style: italic">technically</span>married doesn't mean I love him."<br/><br/>From his spot reclined on his bed, Lex had to wonder how far away he was from Jenessa and Russell. Definitely close enough for him to eavesdrop, but that didn't mean anything; with the loss of his vision, his hearing picked up the slack. Jenessa knew that, or at least she<span style="font-style: italic">used to</span>, so either she had forgotten as much, or she just didn't care. He had to assume it was the latter.