Aaron isn't sure if she's going to come back or-- or if he's supposed to find her again or what.
He hasn't split since before (I fucked up) yesterday; he doesn't now. It would seem... fake, somehow. And the last thing he needs is (sorry Roy) to have all the most dangerous parts of him tied up in a nice neat package and walking around independently.
At the moment, he's pacing back and forth in his room, with ridiculous slept-in clothes and ridiculous slept-on hair.
In a minute maybe he'll clean up a bit and go looking for Adiva.
It's a little colder today; he digs up a sweater from somewhere and puts it on, gives his hair one last despairing attempt at organization, then walks out into the hall with his hands in his pockets.
It's the morning.
Aaron isn't sure if she's going to come back or-- or if he's supposed to find her again or what.
He hasn't split since before (I fucked up) yesterday; he doesn't now. It would seem... fake, somehow. And the last thing he needs is (sorry Roy) to have all the most dangerous parts of him tied up in a nice neat package and walking around independently.
At the moment, he's pacing back and forth in his room, with ridiculous slept-in clothes and ridiculous slept-on hair.
In a minute maybe he'll clean up a bit and go looking for Adiva.
In a minute.
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"...Hi."
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(It's delivered so easily it can only have been rehearsed.)
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"Sure."
That and the small smile are delivered less easily, more because he doesn't feel like putting on a front than because he couldn't if he tried.
He runs a hand through his hair, which serves mostly to make it all fluff in the same direction, and goes hunting for his shoes.
Door's open; she can come in or stay out, as she likes.
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It's a little colder today; he digs up a sweater from somewhere and puts it on, gives his hair one last despairing attempt at organization, then walks out into the hall with his hands in his pockets.
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Well, he can't know it makes him look like an innocent ball of fluff you want to take home and feed muffins t--
Wait. Yes he can.)
She steps out to join him -- side by side, but with a foot or so of distance between them.
A number of small talk openings suggest themselves; she rejects them all and walks in awkward silence.
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"You doin' okay?"
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Then she sighs, running a hand through her hair.
"I mean -- I mean, I'm -- I don't know, I'm better than last night."
Last night was kind of epically not-okay.
". . . You?"
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"...I been better," he settles on at last, after a few false starts.
A slight shrug, as if to say: is how I'm doing really the issue here?
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She lets out a rueful huff of laughter. "Yeah."
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Soft sigh.
"Have you... have you talked to Pyth?"
(Is she okay?)
(Has she regained her sanity and started blaming me?)
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"Hmn-mn. Not yet."
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"Okay."
That sounds stupid, but it's the least stupid out of all the things he could think to say.
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Yeah, this is awkward.
They reach the bar proper; Adiva takes the lead and heads towards a booth.
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