She's the chore but he's committed as ever to not seeing that. Nonetheless, Jess appreciates him trying. Perhaps over winter she'll stumble upon a way to make him sick enough of her to not want her around. Actively looking for it has fallen off her priority list. She's wrung out from the search, a year or more of fruitless labour. Here they are, when they should be strangers. She's switching to asshole autopilot, relying on old and trusted self-defense mechanisms, out pure self-preservation. Not that she'll admit it.

"It's fine." It's actually better than fine, a little smirk chipped into her mouth. "I kind of like it when you're a dick." It proves he knows who he's dealing with. It didn't used to feel so similar to a sign of affection but that's just what happens when you've known someone a long time. Jess has a deeper pull of her coffee, shutting her eyes as the warmth seeping through her defies the caffeine failing to keep her awake. Another good few gulps, so she doesn't fall asleep in the bath, and then Jess will haul her stuff down the hall and get to washing away the layers of stale sweat and dead skin.