(no subject)
Tony leaves and Maxxie stays put. He doesn't move from his spot, seated on his desk, feet on his chair, except to prop an elbow up on a knee and rest his chin in his hand. It's a classic pose, like The Thinker, and for once he actually is thinking.
Tony's left and it fills him with unease. There was a time when he would have given a lot to see Tony back to his old tricks, gaze sharp, stride confident. But now he's seeing it in action again and it feels like something's missing. It feels somehow like he's just lost a friend again, even though nothing really has happened at all. Yet.
"Fuck it," he mutters to himself, no energy behind the words, and leans over to open the drawer of his desk. It takes a good solid two minutes, but he finds a proper joint in the inexplicable mess he's accumulated, only to realize that Tony's nicked his lighter.
"Fuck!" Maxxie shoves the drawer closed and the noise isn't nearly as satisfying as he wants.
Tony's left and it fills him with unease. There was a time when he would have given a lot to see Tony back to his old tricks, gaze sharp, stride confident. But now he's seeing it in action again and it feels like something's missing. It feels somehow like he's just lost a friend again, even though nothing really has happened at all. Yet.
"Fuck it," he mutters to himself, no energy behind the words, and leans over to open the drawer of his desk. It takes a good solid two minutes, but he finds a proper joint in the inexplicable mess he's accumulated, only to realize that Tony's nicked his lighter.
"Fuck!" Maxxie shoves the drawer closed and the noise isn't nearly as satisfying as he wants.