John "Rodeo" Wilder Sat Feb 23, 2013 8:20 pm
He raised a brow at the reclining pinkette and her well wishing. "Wouldn't be my first time in a ditch, but I'll be fine. I've driven home with black eyes, a bloody nose, and a mild concussion before," John told her, mentally adding, 'while drunk', "so driving at night is nothing really. So quit worryin'." It was a bit gruff, the way the fighter said it, but the sentiment wasn't hidden. He didn't want her to worry over him. John Wilder was definitely a man who could take care of himself, whether in a fight or not, and if Celi thought about all of his hell raising, she'd be worrying herself into an early grave. Couldn't have that, now. He gave her a confident grin and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops so his hands wouldn't be tempted to wander of their own accord.
Maybe having a modeling job as a way to earn a little extra cash wouldn't really be so bad after all - all things considered. For one, it would probably pay well and he'd be able to keep the clothes she made for him. The most important reason was currently lying in the bed before him, but he'd have to deal with her later. And maybe things might start looking up. Who knew? But one thing was for certain: he didn't particularly like the idea of two young girls living by themselves while their parents were off gallavanting around without a care for them. It left a sour feeling in his stomach. But he had no business sticking his nose where it didn't belong, so the best he could do was watch over them. Turning away from Celi, lest he be tempted to stay, John headed towards her door to see himself out. But when he reached the open doorway, he stopped and turned back to her. "Sweet dreams." He said with a wink, then tipped his hat to her and headed out her door.