Jason's made more trips to the District Eight Suites than he has in his life ever seen he and Swann started their whatever-it-is. For the most part it's during their hasty Escort lunch breaks, when he pops up briefly to see if Swann's available so they can go grab a salad and a sandwich together. Jason normally eats the free food that the Avoxes can provide, but when he and Swann go out he actually spends money and leaves the Center, and as such gives his District Seven Tributes a brief reprieve from his foul temper and rude remarks.
Which means that at the moment, that vitriol can be aimed at someone else, and the instant he catches sight of Jack he realizes that Jack's exactly the sort of person he hates. It's a deep, gut-feeling kind of hate, one that's nourished by a lifetime of abstinence from liquor and tended by certain presumptions of what a person with class would do. Which is not knock over bottles of booze and sing crass songs as if no one might walk in, or look as if they're a wooden doll shoved into an outfit of clothes from another set.
He wrinkles his nose and looks near-nauseated at the smell of the gin that's filling up the kitchen.
A.
Which means that at the moment, that vitriol can be aimed at someone else, and the instant he catches sight of Jack he realizes that Jack's exactly the sort of person he hates. It's a deep, gut-feeling kind of hate, one that's nourished by a lifetime of abstinence from liquor and tended by certain presumptions of what a person with class would do. Which is not knock over bottles of booze and sing crass songs as if no one might walk in, or look as if they're a wooden doll shoved into an outfit of clothes from another set.
He wrinkles his nose and looks near-nauseated at the smell of the gin that's filling up the kitchen.
"God. You're embarrassing."