(no subject)
Some of the lights are on in the Tonks-Wrangle flat. The kids are asleep. It's late evening, and there's really no point in keeping things on when there's no one to keep them on for.
Bernard certainly doesn't need any light.
He sits on the couch, waiting for Mal to either respond to the note he left with Bar with a note of his own or a visit.
There's been a lot of waiting in the last seven weeks.
Bernard's fists clench and unclench on the red sofa cushions, his hands itching for a pencil or a cigarette or a bomb. Anything to stop this unbearable feeling of knowing nothing, doing nothing.
He's been waiting a long time.
Bernard certainly doesn't need any light.
He sits on the couch, waiting for Mal to either respond to the note he left with Bar with a note of his own or a visit.
There's been a lot of waiting in the last seven weeks.
Bernard's fists clench and unclench on the red sofa cushions, his hands itching for a pencil or a cigarette or a bomb. Anything to stop this unbearable feeling of knowing nothing, doing nothing.
He's been waiting a long time.