She dragged her lips suggestively up past his ear. His face had contorted into one which feigned ignorance and mock disgust. He repeated the question.

"What do ya' mean, roleplay?"

She rolled over onto her back and tossed the sheet around with naked feet. The cotton billowed, escaping her kicks. It drifted to the ground and settled in the light of the open window. A breeze from Philadelphia's Old City rose over the bed and teased their exposed bodies. She lay motionless, though, deep in her own thoughts. These were not thoughts regarding the mock adventures she could conjure up with Jack, intimate escapades that the pair might embark on. They were thoughts as mundane as the groceries that needed to be collected on her way home, and what dress she could wear to the club this evening.

"Just something exciting, Jack." Her voice was silky, though unmistakably Italian. 

Mezzo murmured a response. His mind too, was elsewhere, and he was struggling to retrieve it. His gaze lifted to the window, almost following the trail of the breeze had it been visible. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked out into the city. He followed the road he knew well to where it met the Delaware river, and from there, out onto the water. Standing there now, his imagination built the structures around him from memory. It populated with people, sounds and smells. Under his feet, the road formed and the wooden boardwalk around the outer edges fell into place. 

The question remained, as it had done in recent years; 'do I want this?'. It was there, written in blood, at least figuratively. All he need do was claim it. The smell of a deli got caught up in his senses, the roar of the boxing crowd floated through the air. Experiences from his youth, now peacefully at rest. Before him was a opening, a doorway. Overhead was carefully carved wooden sign. A simple oval shape, with two ears. A cat. He reached out for the door, fingertips gracing it slightly.

Then it collapsed, suddenly, painfully. In flames. He was torn from his vision and brought back to the bedroom with what felt like physical discomfort. The girl had sat upon him, straddling him closely. It annoyed him, but not enough to justify berating her.

"So...roleplay?" She squeaked, forcing an enhancement of her natural cute appeal.

He looked into the exaggerated pout she thought he wanted to see and forced a smile to satisfy her. They kissed, but with no real passion, and he rolled her off, sitting himself on the edge of the bed.

"Maybe, later. There's somewhere I need to be though."

She grumped, fell back onto the mattress and scooped up the sheets, enveloping herself while waiting for him to leave. He pulled up his pants and tossed a white shirt over his shoulders. His departure brought about little ceremony, there wasn't much left to say.

Roleplay just wasn't Jack's thing.