He's being judged and it was mad. There's this asinine lull and he wants to hold himself straighter and strut, but it's not a damn beauty pageant he's been entered in. The girl does her show and he does his- he flashes a disarming smile. It reaches his eyes, or else the way he twisted his expression made it seem so.
He doesn't think he'd have been happier if he'd have been told he failed the draftboard's review.
The lady gets a sheepish mock-up of a blush. His heart's pounding a mile a minute. He knows she could still come for him, could still be hiding an unpleasant surprise. That he'd spent his while talking to a projection of the island was unknown to him. That projections of this caliber existed at all would be news.
"Aw, shucks." Hawkeye steps back, disguises the retreat as a half-assed sweeping bow. "I'll try to make ya proud." He won't. He's not interested in someone who sees death as a joke.
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He doesn't think he'd have been happier if he'd have been told he failed the draftboard's review.
The lady gets a sheepish mock-up of a blush. His heart's pounding a mile a minute. He knows she could still come for him, could still be hiding an unpleasant surprise. That he'd spent his while talking to a projection of the island was unknown to him. That projections of this caliber existed at all would be news.
"Aw, shucks." Hawkeye steps back, disguises the retreat as a half-assed sweeping bow. "I'll try to make ya proud." He won't. He's not interested in someone who sees death as a joke.