Ruth doesn't go easily. It's not as simple as just getting her to the door. Or getting the door closed. At every turn he has to get close up, while keeping his face congenial as possible, and his voice as soothing and sympathetic almost as possible, while she keeps looking back, and yes or okay or goodbye now. Down to the very last inch between the door and the door frame even.
Which is just about as pressing toward damned annoying as it is toward sad in a way.
Ways Steve doesn't have to think about when the door finally sinks shut with the hard pressure of fitting into the frame, and he knob loosens into place and he can turn the lock. Turning back to the room and Danny, while that facade drops fasted than a real bomb in the air. It's easy to take everything pushing up, prickled from those last seconds and the whole day, if he's being honest, and push it right back out. "Seriously? What was that?"
Mr. Pickles yowled unpleased at the sudden swing of movement, and maybe even the sudden explosion of Steve's voice. Normal, but far more forceful suddenly than it had been at all. They did not need a cover. They did not need a cover as Gay Peeping Toms. They were not supposed to be here long enough for that at all. They shouldn't have needed to stand over on this side of the room pretending to be anything they weren't.
It was not hard to explain to the hapless old woman they needed her out of their hair and not to be dealing with her.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2015-05-11 03:37 am (UTC)Ruth doesn't go easily. It's not as simple as just getting her to the door. Or getting the door closed. At every turn he has to get close up, while keeping his face congenial as possible, and his voice as soothing and sympathetic almost as possible, while she keeps looking back, and yes or okay or goodbye now. Down to the very last inch between the door and the door frame even.
Which is just about as pressing toward damned annoying as it is toward sad in a way.
Ways Steve doesn't have to think about when the door finally sinks shut with the hard pressure of fitting into the frame, and he knob loosens into place and he can turn the lock. Turning back to the room and Danny, while that facade drops fasted than a real bomb in the air. It's easy to take everything pushing up, prickled from those last seconds and the whole day, if he's being honest, and push it right back out. "Seriously? What was that?"
Mr. Pickles yowled unpleased at the sudden swing of movement, and maybe even the sudden explosion of Steve's voice. Normal, but far more forceful suddenly than it had been at all. They did not need a cover. They did not need a cover as Gay Peeping Toms. They were not supposed to be here long enough for that at all. They shouldn't have needed to stand over on this side of the room pretending to be anything they weren't.
It was not hard to explain to the hapless old woman they needed her out of their hair and not to be dealing with her.