He considers trying to step forward, into the hall -- there's something distinctly uncomfortable about this halfway placement, with the doorway between them.
Have a good time without me, is what you mean, says a small caustic voice in his head. Be happy without me, so I don't have to feel bad for leaving you --
You can still see shadows moving along the outside of the door.
One person-shaped shadow stops in front of Simon's door; there's no sound as a hand lifts, and stops, hesitant.
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It's a silhouette he knows.
Without consulting him, his hand reaches for the door and slides it open.
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She slips them both in her pockets.
"Hey." Quiet. "Won't take long, just wanted to -- "
Half a smile, crooked, rueful.
"Happy birthday. Is what."
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Then smiles -- fragile, and a little strained, but genuine.
"Thank you."
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Resolutely she doesn't look past him into the room.
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He considers trying to step forward, into the hall -- there's something distinctly uncomfortable about this halfway placement, with the doorway between them.
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I've had other things on my mind.
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He forces the voice down, down and away.
"Thank you," he repeats, making himself smile.
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Beat. A weak smile.
" -- leave you to it."
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"Have a good night," he says as pleasantly as he can. Which is ... enough to pass.
The urge to ask her to stay is, for the first time, offset by a weary dull anger that just wants to wait for her to go.
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Her hands stay in her pockets until she makes the stairs.
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She's sure to be long gone from the corridor by the time he opens it again.
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