[And he doesn't object to that, just like he doesn't object to her not calling until she needs distraction. That's what so many human relationships are. Little islands to cling to and stop thinking about how tough it can be to swim against the tide. Maybe it's callous, but he's becoming well practiced in finding short term distractions. Alcohol can leave his hands shaky in the morning. People don't.
That's what this place is, in itself. Somewhere he doesn't have to think about the people he knows here, none of whom quite know him. The apartment keeps its own secrets, it doesn't need any more from him.
He holds his hands out for her coat, though it will just go over the back of one of the chairs tucked under a desk-cum-dining table in the living room, and doesn't hide the fact that he's looking over the outfit.]
Rough weekend? Sorry [He winces apology.] Said I wouldn't ask.
[Distraction. Because it's easier to let herself relax and at least pretend she's not what she is when she's with someone who wouldn't know.
Distraction. Because she's good enough at what she does to know that despite everything he is, he's not that much different from her. He has his secrets, his dark hidden corners, just like she does. Hers might be darker and deeper, but that doesn't change the fact that they're there just the same.
She hands him the coat, where it ends up really doesn't make a difference right now, she doesn't have any intentions of leaving very soon anyway.
Her smile wavers just a flinch, the question is innocent enough, she can't be upset with him for trying to make conversation. Especially, not when she's not exactly the easiest person to make conversation with.]
I don't mind. The weekend was... more difficult than I expected. [A line creases her brow.] It wasn't all bad, the ending was the worst part.
[Mostly, the waking up alone, after clinging so hard to the one thing she really hoped she wouldn't have to let go of. Letting down her defenses to the one person she knows she can without judgement and then having to wall it all back up so quickly. Saying the weekend was difficult is like saying that a paper cup is a good way to stop a flood.
Her gaze drifts to the kitchen and then back to him.]
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[Action; (backdated)]
[And he doesn't object to that, just like he doesn't object to her not calling until she needs distraction. That's what so many human relationships are. Little islands to cling to and stop thinking about how tough it can be to swim against the tide. Maybe it's callous, but he's becoming well practiced in finding short term distractions. Alcohol can leave his hands shaky in the morning. People don't.
That's what this place is, in itself. Somewhere he doesn't have to think about the people he knows here, none of whom quite know him. The apartment keeps its own secrets, it doesn't need any more from him.
He holds his hands out for her coat, though it will just go over the back of one of the chairs tucked under a desk-cum-dining table in the living room, and doesn't hide the fact that he's looking over the outfit.]
Rough weekend? Sorry [He winces apology.] Said I wouldn't ask.
[Action; (backdated)]
[Distraction. Because it's easier to let herself relax and at least pretend she's not what she is when she's with someone who wouldn't know.
Distraction. Because she's good enough at what she does to know that despite everything he is, he's not that much different from her. He has his secrets, his dark hidden corners, just like she does. Hers might be darker and deeper, but that doesn't change the fact that they're there just the same.
She hands him the coat, where it ends up really doesn't make a difference right now, she doesn't have any intentions of leaving very soon anyway.
Her smile wavers just a flinch, the question is innocent enough, she can't be upset with him for trying to make conversation. Especially, not when she's not exactly the easiest person to make conversation with.]
I don't mind. The weekend was... more difficult than I expected. [A line creases her brow.] It wasn't all bad, the ending was the worst part.
[Mostly, the waking up alone, after clinging so hard to the one thing she really hoped she wouldn't have to let go of. Letting down her defenses to the one person she knows she can without judgement and then having to wall it all back up so quickly. Saying the weekend was difficult is like saying that a paper cup is a good way to stop a flood.
Her gaze drifts to the kitchen and then back to him.]
Do you need any help with anything?