Max has spent the last - he glances at his watch - twenty three minutes pacing back and forth in front of a few chairs, brows furrowed, eyes glued to the floor. Ben's totally KO'd, Alex is asleep, and he can't stay still.
He's been trying to keep himself from screaming, you see.
When he finally looks up, he spots Roger immediately. Of course, Max thinks. Of course he's down here.
@#$%ING MILLIWAYS
But he's not screaming, no. The urge may have just increased exponentially, but he will not lose what little cool he has left.
By some chance (or that heated feeling when you know someone is watching you) he looks over and makes eye contact with Max. It doesn't last. He looks back at the coffee and sets his saucer on a small table beside him so he's left with just the mug and takes another sip. It sure as hell wasn't as satisfying...but for his wife he'd try to be better.
And he's not totally sure he should say anything. He's met the guy once and seen him around maybe twice. Ben's friend probably just wants to be left alone. Then the internal conflict of actually giving a damn gets him...or maybe it's the pacing.
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He's been trying to keep himself from screaming, you see.
When he finally looks up, he spots Roger immediately. Of course, Max thinks. Of course he's down here.
@#$%ING MILLIWAYS
But he's not screaming, no. The urge may have just increased exponentially, but he will not lose what little cool he has left.
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And he's not totally sure he should say anything. He's met the guy once and seen him around maybe twice. Ben's friend probably just wants to be left alone. Then the internal conflict of actually giving a damn gets him...or maybe it's the pacing.
"Something wrong?" he asks gruffly.
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He's not gonna stop pacing until he wears a hole in the floor, it seems.
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"Well, I guess you should stop walking back and forth then, shouldn't ya?"
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