That correction, after their lengthy and less-than-amicable exchange, earns her a furrowed-brow look from him. He's not sure how he feels about being corrected, although if they had been on less strange, less than entirely friendly ground, it might have been nice to talk to someone with some certainty.
But she's not someone he can surrender his skepticism to, and that's just a fact. He looks down at his knees again -- maybe for one of the last times with only one eye, he hopes -- and then plops his hands down on them. One half-boneless heave and he presses himself to standing. Why had he even brought it up?
"In either case." His tone is drawn-in, private. "If I'm going to sleep at all tonight I'd better start trying now. Good night."
He shoots her a furtive glance, begins to strike an oblique path to where he's left his towel. It's not quite bolting, but it's not much better and he knows it.
no subject
But she's not someone he can surrender his skepticism to, and that's just a fact. He looks down at his knees again -- maybe for one of the last times with only one eye, he hopes -- and then plops his hands down on them. One half-boneless heave and he presses himself to standing. Why had he even brought it up?
"In either case." His tone is drawn-in, private. "If I'm going to sleep at all tonight I'd better start trying now. Good night."
He shoots her a furtive glance, begins to strike an oblique path to where he's left his towel. It's not quite bolting, but it's not much better and he knows it.