[The thunk-thunk-thunk announces Alistair Mordechai's arrival first before everything else (the crackle and smell of a lighted cigarette, the press of the particular gravitas of one man in the air behind her.
It doesn't quite match the way he looks now: bandaged up, tired of being injured, annoyed at the amount of effort it takes to walk down from his room to the fucking doorway.
Still, he did it for her. Of course he'd do it for her.
Settling down now, once he's reached his destination (that is, her side). Easing down, really, because the last thing he'd like to do is break his leg all over again, or end up in more pain than he already is. Pills can only do so much.
Sighing a little himself, out of relief and exasperation. Then quietly turning, acknowledging her presence properly with a minute nod, putting his cigarette out ,and digging around for his pack.
The canister goes down first, though, right between their bodies. A silent offering.]
no subject
It doesn't quite match the way he looks now: bandaged up, tired of being injured, annoyed at the amount of effort it takes to walk down from his room to the fucking doorway.
Still, he did it for her. Of course he'd do it for her.
Settling down now, once he's reached his destination (that is, her side). Easing down, really, because the last thing he'd like to do is break his leg all over again, or end up in more pain than he already is. Pills can only do so much.
Sighing a little himself, out of relief and exasperation. Then quietly turning, acknowledging her presence properly with a minute nod, putting his cigarette out ,and digging around for his pack.
The canister goes down first, though, right between their bodies. A silent offering.]