"Probably not." But he'd have survived being shot, if he let them hit home in the first place, and it had been a point of discussion as to whether or not he and Mohinder could dodge bullets, what with their reflexes. Either way, however, he shrugs, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, before, "Next time."
He shoots a glance at the door of the warehouse. "So. Ice cream?" He's lost most of his anger--his hunger--but what remains, he's sure the ice cream will finish. It's one of his comfort foods, after all.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-12-17 03:49 am (UTC)He shoots a glance at the door of the warehouse. "So. Ice cream?" He's lost most of his anger--his hunger--but what remains, he's sure the ice cream will finish. It's one of his comfort foods, after all.