Half shrug—then he offers Monika his bottle. “Depends on what you’re doing. If you’re passing out after cardio, then something’s wrong.”. He replies, turning to lean against the galley table. “I’m surprised I don’t see more of your outfit around.”.

Glancing. Tempting. Gruff digits sliding up the ridge of her lower back. “Don’t tell me an operative of your renown is checking out so soon, I for one still have my cardio to complete. If you think you can handle it.”.

⠀.The sigh encourages a scoff to forsake the Austrian's throat , watching the woman with entertainment as she desperately attempts to size something . edible . ` . Would you like some help .ᐣ `. Krueger asks from the distance, smickering . ⠀.

⠀. Took [𝙍] fishing !.⠀

“Mm. Don’t mind if I do~”. She smiles, taking a long sip of coffee. She sat there confidently, staring at Monica. “So. business~”.

The steel bottle in his hand is canted back, a stream of water pouring into his open maw. Once finished with swallowing, he looks down at the sluggish specialist with a lifted brow. “. When there’s a reason.”. Of which, there has been one recently. “You look beat.”.

Barring the “slumped” bit, same. He really pushed it with the punching bag.