If you can would be self-aggrandizing, wouldn't it? Whatever he may mean by it. Of course she would turn to thoughts of her brother. They're what get her through. He'll have no choice but to think about her, but he'll have the data to keep him cold company and assist him in cutting her vexatious whole into neat little pieces.
Hap nods.
"I'll be coming in a little later than usual," he says, like she has any idea of the time beyond morning, afternoon, evening and night, "so you can get the full five cycles."
He carries on, riding the familiarity of the exchange. "You remember what we talked about?" An effort to render the unspoken before... as quiet as possible.
She can't complain about having a little more time to stare out the window. She assumes this is a concession to her request to go outside. He won't let her, thinks he can't let her, refuses to trust her. She can have an extra half hour of window time, maybe, if he's still feeling merciful in the morning. She's tried in her time here to think of his moods like the weather, but she's still angry at God; how can she fail to resent the judgement of a single man?
But all she can do is nod back. "Ask him about the last movement. The fifth one. Hope to fuck that he's a better dancer than he was at fourteen."
Hap smiles gently. She's almost beautiful, right then. At his side, his fingers rub against his thumb. He'd caress her face if she wouldn't withdraw. He isn't sure what from. Bemusement. Offense. Hostility. He can't predict her as well as he'd like to. But then, if he could, she'd be down there with the rest.
"Alright. I'll leave you to it." His gaze flicks to her braid and back to her face before he turns to leave. One last thing, he'd said, but there's a sentiment that's been skittering beneath his resolve since he walked her out of the bathroom. A fact that's neither here nor there: Except for at the very end, unbidden and unwanted, he didn't imagine anyone but her.
He shuts off the light and closes the door in silence.
Edited (burnin it slow stylez ) 2024-08-19 21:47 (UTC)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Hap nods.
"I'll be coming in a little later than usual," he says, like she has any idea of the time beyond morning, afternoon, evening and night, "so you can get the full five cycles."
He carries on, riding the familiarity of the exchange. "You remember what we talked about?" An effort to render the unspoken before... as quiet as possible.
no subject
But all she can do is nod back. "Ask him about the last movement. The fifth one. Hope to fuck that he's a better dancer than he was at fourteen."
no subject
"Alright. I'll leave you to it." His gaze flicks to her braid and back to her face before he turns to leave. One last thing, he'd said, but there's a sentiment that's been skittering beneath his resolve since he walked her out of the bathroom. A fact that's neither here nor there: Except for at the very end, unbidden and unwanted, he didn't imagine anyone but her.
He shuts off the light and closes the door in silence.