[Said with a bright grin. It's stupid, he thinks, but even little exchanges like this are something he misses. Most of the people he used to joke around with here and there are gone now. And there have never been many, he's too slow to warm up to anyone, so he feels each loss acutely.
There's a drawn-out moment once he's scrubbed his face clean where he just stands hunched over the sink so he doesn't tower over the mirror, and studies his reflection. He's afraid, still, that he'll turn around and go out into the room and Law will be gone, that none of this is or was ever real. He smells coffee, but maybe his mind is filling in the scent. Maybe he made some earlier and forgot. Maybe Will stopped by. Or maybe this place is driving him insane by making him think that all of these possibilities are perfectly reasonable.
Damnit. With practiced precision, he replaces the eyeliner and lipstick, decorates his cheekbone in gold and fuschia petals - things that might be blooming now if this place knew the real meaning of summer - then straightens his hat and re-emerges, while reminding himself again to work out some way to contact Pluto, to check on Petra, who gave him these colors. It is a very real relief to see that Law is still here. Still real.]
I've got some stuff that might help with that, if it's not coming out.
[See, he's fine, everything's normal and he's not having some slow crisis! He's smiling, so it's fine. He scoots past Law to pull a couple of mugs down from the cupboard and set them on the counter.]
no subject
[Said with a bright grin. It's stupid, he thinks, but even little exchanges like this are something he misses. Most of the people he used to joke around with here and there are gone now. And there have never been many, he's too slow to warm up to anyone, so he feels each loss acutely.
There's a drawn-out moment once he's scrubbed his face clean where he just stands hunched over the sink so he doesn't tower over the mirror, and studies his reflection. He's afraid, still, that he'll turn around and go out into the room and Law will be gone, that none of this is or was ever real. He smells coffee, but maybe his mind is filling in the scent. Maybe he made some earlier and forgot. Maybe Will stopped by. Or maybe this place is driving him insane by making him think that all of these possibilities are perfectly reasonable.
Damnit. With practiced precision, he replaces the eyeliner and lipstick, decorates his cheekbone in gold and fuschia petals - things that might be blooming now if this place knew the real meaning of summer - then straightens his hat and re-emerges, while reminding himself again to work out some way to contact Pluto, to check on Petra, who gave him these colors. It is a very real relief to see that Law is still here. Still real.]
I've got some stuff that might help with that, if it's not coming out.
[See, he's fine, everything's normal and he's not having some slow crisis! He's smiling, so it's fine. He scoots past Law to pull a couple of mugs down from the cupboard and set them on the counter.]