If there was one thing that gnawed at Jules' patience, it was passive-aggressiveness. It suggested condescension to him; that the person thought he was too stupid to realize when he was being derided. "[color=bc8dbf]Live in filth if you want.[/color]" Indeed.

It was strange to him how much she seemed to care; what was it to her if his apartment was dirtier than hers? Not dirty; dirtier, comparatively. His walls weren't crumbling like a drug den's; he wasn't sleeping on yellow, crusty sheets with an addict's shamelessness. Neither did he need the place sanitized and spotless-white like a hospital ward when he had guests over. It was a perfectly normal place, as he was concerned.

He could guess and grasp at multitudes of motivations for this behavior in Ona: she revered the rank of [i]guest[/i], perhaps, and when she took such pains to accommodate her guests, she expected of her hosts the same reverence. Or she believed those platitudes about a healthy home being a happy home. Or it was another way to feel superior to people. Whatever the reason, Jewel saw no reason to see this topic further along; it would only make work awkward tomorrow, if things between them were tense. The quality of their work would suffer if the person behind the mirror and the person in front of it, connected via earpieces and hidden mics, were not getting along.

"[color=8d97bf]How's the drink?[/color]" he asked. Of course he could justify it however he liked, but at the end of the day, he just tried to avoid conflict with people.