( the way she says his name is questioning and uncertain, like she's trying to piece together a jigsaw she hadn't even realised she'd started. it doesn't quite give him an opportunity to gain the upper-hand because even in the dim lighting of the bedroom, in the way the glow of electronics cast light and shadows here and there and that's it, marc can see (tell) the way that her expression shifts. the way it goes from bemused to unhappy in an instant and marc realises that any chance of grace is slim.
story of his life—.
his pause is weighted, considered. the pull of his features says he's deciding between two answers but it doesn't last long. marc has never been all that great when presented with AN OPTION in terms of choosing the correct response. reading the room isn't an inherent skill he's ever been blessed with, isn't soemthing he's ever succeeded in developing. he's almost constantly, consistently, far too caught up in his own head to be able to really, truly figure anything like that out.
so, instead of something like 'I missed you', which isn't untrue and more likely to be the sort of comment lottie would like to hear, he settles for— )
no subject
story of his life—.
his pause is weighted, considered. the pull of his features says he's deciding between two answers but it doesn't last long. marc has never been all that great when presented with AN OPTION in terms of choosing the correct response. reading the room isn't an inherent skill he's ever been blessed with, isn't soemthing he's ever succeeded in developing. he's almost constantly, consistently, far too caught up in his own head to be able to really, truly figure anything like that out.
so, instead of something like 'I missed you', which isn't untrue and more likely to be the sort of comment lottie would like to hear, he settles for— )
The couch was uncomfortable.