And so on and so forth. Deirdre doesn’t warm up to him, but she can’t seem to be entirely impolite. The deadened familiarity of this exchange stands out all the more because it’s a first on The Americans. Deirdre is the only conquest who doesn’t instantly melt under Philip’s charm. I fucking love her for it, and I hate watching her sit there, riding it out: listening to him talk about himself, offering monosyllabic answers to his uninvited questions. I wish she would just tell him to leave her alone instead of simply not encouraging him. But then I remind myself to wish he’d have left her alone in the first place. And I remember that this is what I would do (have done, will likely do again) myself.