He pulled a black shirt out. It could use a wash, itself, too, but it was clean enough for the night. For Danny and just rambling in this place until everything else was clean again. Or he was in another one tomorrow. He's zipping up the bag while throwing Danny a look as the man goes off about a pair of chairs, like they are just that. A pair of chairs. On a beach. Like it was a thing that happened everyday.
Like the world doesn't shiver, while staying perfectly clear, and there aren't two people laughing and drinking coffee.
Because there aren't. There's no one else here. No one in the chairs, and no one else lounging or racing around the backyard.
Leaving the bag, Steve grabbed his beer and the shirt and headed after Danny. There was a nearly a snort for the tragic words falling out of Danny's mouth. Like anyone, anywhere, on the planet agreed with him. Like anyone, anywhere, looked at this beach, golden and glimmering, setting sun, and thought about coastal erosion. Every moment Steve thought there might be a glimmer of something real and sane, he opened his mouth and this came out, too.
It seemed to be his go to when he really wanted to get under someone's skin. Or keep them back. Start listing the things he hated about this place, like it was the best way to build walls between himself and whatever else was going on around him. Like a trigger, or a social mechanism for keeping himself that haole that everyone had reiterated he was, and that Steve was starting to wonder if he wore as much as a badge of pride as a mask over whatever else was under there.
Down in the flickers of reality, when he laughed in the kitchen or when he'd been talking to his daughter in the car.
It is easy to inject, without responding, ignoring or just agressive talking over Danny without any apology or cover for it, after reaching down and peeling the beer splattered shirt off of himself. Put it and his beer down on the chair, before going about searching for the bottom of the black shirt. "You ever gonna tell me what Danno means?"
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2014-09-11 03:58 am (UTC)Like the world doesn't shiver, while staying perfectly clear, and there aren't two people laughing and drinking coffee.
Because there aren't. There's no one else here. No one in the chairs, and no one else lounging or racing around the backyard.
Leaving the bag, Steve grabbed his beer and the shirt and headed after Danny. There was a nearly a snort for the tragic words falling out of Danny's mouth. Like anyone, anywhere, on the planet agreed with him. Like anyone, anywhere, looked at this beach, golden and glimmering, setting sun, and thought about coastal erosion. Every moment Steve thought there might be a glimmer of something real and sane, he opened his mouth and this came out, too.
It seemed to be his go to when he really wanted to get under someone's skin. Or keep them back. Start listing the things he hated about this place, like it was the best way to build walls between himself and whatever else was going on around him. Like a trigger, or a social mechanism for keeping himself that haole that everyone had reiterated he was, and that Steve was starting to wonder if he wore as much as a badge of pride as a mask over whatever else was under there.
Down in the flickers of reality, when he laughed in the kitchen or when he'd been talking to his daughter in the car.
It is easy to inject, without responding, ignoring or just agressive talking over Danny without any apology or cover for it, after reaching down and peeling the beer splattered shirt off of himself. Put it and his beer down on the chair, before going about searching for the bottom of the black shirt. "You ever gonna tell me what Danno means?"