carl y la guerra de las galaxias

[hallelujahpilot]

previouslyThe hotel is nice enough, but she pays attention to windows, doorways, alcoves and exists rather than any nicety of architecture. The room is a hotel room - there is something about hotels and rooms that is, it seems, ageless - and she dumps her bag on the couch before going to claim the bathroom. A decent trip plus beer at lunch and, hey

Comments

[one_man_army]

By the time she's out of the bathroom, he's put their bags on the bed, the fruit on the desk, and pulled off his jacket -- revealing the form of the gun tucked away at the small of his back beneath his t-shirt.

He glances up at her as she steps out of the bathroom, reaching for a bottle of water.

"Want some ice?"

Carl's trying to gauge how she's feeling and from the looks of it, there's a bit of shell shock happening. Which is to be expected.

[hallelujahpilot]

"Um, yes please."

[one_man_army]

Two glasses, both with ice, and then the water bottle gets split between them. He doesn't ask what he wants to ask (just yet) and he doesn't say what he wants to say (he's not sure he will) as he pours the water.

He turns around and leans against the counter -- wincing as the handgun presses into his hip -- then shifts to get comfortable, offering one over without a word.

(Giving her a moment to continue recovering her composure. Even though he knows it'll break down eventually.)

[hallelujahpilot]

She puts her gun and holster on the bed, next to her pack, and walks over to take a glass with a murmured, "Thanks."

(she wishes he'd say something, anything so she could stop trying to make sense of the confused mess in her head).

"I-"