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Summary
“You’ve got to be the most idiotic Ca—man I've ever met.” Jimmy postulates, almost grinding his teeth at the momentary slip-up. But it had seemed that Curly paid no mind to that half-hearted insult either, either he’s extremely shy or generally unconfrontational. He just shakes his head now, seeing as how those blue eyes just watch Jimmy’s every move. For some reason, it made a shiver crawl up his spine. Jimmy rolls his scapula, unflinching in the face, he remains undisturbed by the interaction. Lest, as much as possible anyway. He cracks his neck, searching the blonde’s expression for any bit of possible information.
Though, as much as he hated to admit, Curly was something better than Jimmy. That alone was something he hated so much, even having known him for the last few months. He knew that he was far more in-tune with today’s societies, the humanity of the poor and the belligerent. For the working class, he was the model man.
“This is something you can do, you're a good man.” Curly claimed, before adding; “People just have to give you a chance.”