[She doesn't keep him waiting for too long, but she doesn't answer right away, either. First he'll hear the sound of doggy paws on the floor, then a scratch at the door and a quiet whine. Then nothing for about a minute more, until Shaw's footsteps approach and she pulls open the door.
Bear the Belgian Malinois sniffs at Charles' shoes. Shaw gives him an utterly blank look as she steps back to let him in.]
[ in the end, she opens the door. he counts that as a win. and for once, there's barely a smile on his face as he nods to her in greeting — his mouth tilts up slightly, genuinely glad as he is to see her; and he does crouch down to scratch bear behind his ears. ]
Hey, [ he responds, and keeps looking at bear as he says, quiet like someone who's been through all the five stages of grief and has finally arrived at acceptance, ] Junpei's gone. It's been over a week, now. So I figured...
[ well. he figured she might get it. he glances up, then, ] She was like a sister to me. [ he doesn't say her name, but who else would he be talking about? ] To lose one is bad enough, but both at once?
[ She should say more than that. He's clearly here to be comforted, clearly under the mistaken impression that she's capable of making him feel better, but she can't even work up the energy to make an attempt. Her arms hang limply at her sides. ]
[ but that is where she is wrong, of course — he seeks no comfort. there is none, not really; and someone who's grieving the same way he is... well, even if he wanted comfort, he wouldn't ask it from her.
instead, he huffs out a laugh. ]
Nah, it's fine. Just — you get it, don't you? Root's gone, too. And I don't want to talk to others, because it'll be I'm sorry or at least you had this time together or other platitudes, and it's...
[ well. none of it will make him feel better, so he doesn't want to pretend that it does. ]
[Shaw finishes the sentence, crossing her arms tight over her chest. She turns to move away into the living room, but gestures him forward, not wanting him to take her withdrawal as a dismissal. He might not be able to drink, but she can, and she already has an opened bottle sitting on the coffee table.
Luckily, it's the only one in sight, and that includes the trash can. She may drink to cope, but she doesn't appear to be overdoing it.]
You want the apartment back?
[She says this as she sits down heavily on the couch, contemplating the bottle in her hands.]
[It's a guess, honestly, rather than something she has personal experience with. She doesn't want to walk away from this apartment that she's shared with Root for the past several months: it's a nice place, there's some stuff here that she likes, and she wants to keep Root's things safe. But if push came to shove, if she had to vacate, she knows that she could do so easily. Sentimentality is a conscious choice, not something that's a part of her DNA.]
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expiationnet
no subject
Bear the Belgian Malinois sniffs at Charles' shoes. Shaw gives him an utterly blank look as she steps back to let him in.]
Hey.
no subject
Hey, [ he responds, and keeps looking at bear as he says, quiet like someone who's been through all the five stages of grief and has finally arrived at acceptance, ] Junpei's gone. It's been over a week, now. So I figured...
[ well. he figured she might get it. he glances up, then, ] She was like a sister to me. [ he doesn't say her name, but who else would he be talking about? ] To lose one is bad enough, but both at once?
no subject
[ She should say more than that. He's clearly here to be comforted, clearly under the mistaken impression that she's capable of making him feel better, but she can't even work up the energy to make an attempt. Her arms hang limply at her sides. ]
I'd offer you a drink, but, uh--
no subject
instead, he huffs out a laugh. ]
Nah, it's fine. Just — you get it, don't you? Root's gone, too. And I don't want to talk to others, because it'll be I'm sorry or at least you had this time together or other platitudes, and it's...
[ well. none of it will make him feel better, so he doesn't want to pretend that it does. ]
no subject
[Shaw finishes the sentence, crossing her arms tight over her chest. She turns to move away into the living room, but gestures him forward, not wanting him to take her withdrawal as a dismissal. He might not be able to drink, but she can, and she already has an opened bottle sitting on the coffee table.
Luckily, it's the only one in sight, and that includes the trash can. She may drink to cope, but she doesn't appear to be overdoing it.]
You want the apartment back?
[She says this as she sits down heavily on the couch, contemplating the bottle in her hands.]
no subject
Yeah. Exactly.
[ it sucks — that's succinctly put, but entirely true. he follows her after a beat, and simply flops down cross-legged in the middle of the room. ]
Nah, it's yours. I've got the house, still. It feels empty, but the idea of leaving it...
no subject
[It's a guess, honestly, rather than something she has personal experience with. She doesn't want to walk away from this apartment that she's shared with Root for the past several months: it's a nice place, there's some stuff here that she likes, and she wants to keep Root's things safe. But if push came to shove, if she had to vacate, she knows that she could do so easily. Sentimentality is a conscious choice, not something that's a part of her DNA.]