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"Eh. Humans are overrated, anyways," Howie answered with a sort of detatched cheerfulness. He leaned back into the couch and squinted at the ceiling, the movement making the stars return for a moment. At least the nausea had faded, leaving his gut feeling only mildly uncomfortable. He was glad that Jessica hadn't turned the lights - he had a feeling that they wouldn't be very comfortable. He'd had head injuries before... what were they called? Concussion? Something like that. He was pretty sure he had one now, but the last one had gone away fine, so he wasn't worried.

He wasn't really paying attention, so when the words popped into his head he said them without thinking. "Marke but this flea, and marke in this,
How little that which thou deny'st me is..." He snapped his mouth shut and gave her a sheepish grin. "Eheh, don't know where that came from..."

Howie looked away, mumbling something about it being a hobby under his breath. He shifted a little, resettling his book into its hiding spot in his waistband. Sure, some would call it a hobby. Some would call it an obsession, too. Either way, he liked to keep that part of himself as little-known as possible. Once people started thinking you were smart, you started running into trouble. And Howie was smart - not in the conventional way, sure (he hadn't gone to school save for the few times a truent officer had dragged him there), but he had learned to read early and got most of his education out of cast-off books.

When he got a little older, he got most of his reassurance from poems. He'd found the book in the garbage when he was around ten, and he'd kept it ever since. Poetry let him... escape, or grow, or something that he couldn't really describe. But he wasn't going to try to explain it, and he didn't want to in any case.

Hey, he had a reputation to think of.

"Yeah," Howie muttered. "I guess. Whatever." He still didn't meet her eyes, and was obviously trying not to look as if he agreed too much. He fidgeted a moment, smiling more out of habit than amusement, then spoke again in a voice barely above a mumble. "Thanks."

Howie shifted around uncomfortabley for a minute, then slowly pushed himself up. "Look, it's probably best if I go now. I don't want to get you in trouble, and I'll survive now that I'm not bleeding everywhere. Been nice knowing you, babes, but you'll do better to forget about me." The room still spun a bit, but he was steady and he could feel the painkillers begin to work.

Howie paused and made a face. "Yeah, 's cold all right, but I can find somewhere to hole up that's a little less obvious." He wasn't sure how to tell her that he was likely going to get into some heavy trouble while he was in town, and he didn't want her to be associated with him. That was his system - find a new place, operate on his own for a week or so, then snag a job with someone higher up the food chain. He always managed to make enemies along the way.

"Hey," he said after a minute, trying to reassure her, "I've survived out there this long. I'm not about to go get myself killed, all right? Maybe we'll run into eachother again. Never know."

Was she really worrying about him? Waste of time, but he felt guilty nonetheless. "Well, here's hoping, sweet thing." He tipped an imaginary hat to her, promising himself that he'd watch his back, if only for her sake. He was a lot better with women than he was with other men, and for good reason. Some of the nicest people he'd known had been prostitutes. There were points where he'd practically been raised by them, and there are few better places to learn how to treat a woman right.

"Okay, this time I'll really be careful, not like before, alright?" He brushed his hair out of his face, his fingers grazing the developing bruise. "I'll keep your place in mind." He reached down to pet one of the dogs absently, then snatched his hand back when he was treated to a growl. "Erm, right then. Ah, maybe I could use the door this time."

"Oh, you know me," Howie replied with a sly grin, "A shadey character such as myself doesn't often have the opportunity to use one! You'd better show me out, or I may be forced to pick the lock on principal." He stood aside to let her go by.

"Hey, I'd do things the easy way, but I can't risk going soft." He shrugged. "But I suppose I can't deny that I've always loved a challenge." Howie followed her to the door, hesitating before he actually made the move to leave.

"There are worse places to live, and your animals probably keep you safer than you might guess. There's a lot of dog-phobia in the circles I move in." He eyed the husky pointedly. "But... y'know, if you ever get the chance, get yourself out of the city. Move to a farm or something, a girl like you shouldn't be stuck in the concrete..." He almost added 'like I am,' but cut himself off before he started to sound angsty.