A moment later, he gets up and wanders on through to the bedroom. Just to glance in, in case there are any clues about the bloke there. But, nothing. There wouldn't be. He only just got here. So he comes back to the kitchen, and stands next to him. He just wants him to move. It's like he's dead, just - well, of course, he might be. But not here.
Gene rubs a hand over his face, and pinches the bridge of his nose.
'You're not really subtle, are you?'
It doesn't take a genius to figure out what this is telling him. Christ, maybe Deacon's just going to sit here until he comes home, and gives him something to do.
He can't deny there's something sad about it. Something compelling about the slump of the man, so different to when he was gobbing off in the office, yelling about his phone. Are they all like that, behind closed doors?
no subject
A moment later, he gets up and wanders on through to the bedroom. Just to glance in, in case there are any clues about the bloke there. But, nothing. There wouldn't be. He only just got here. So he comes back to the kitchen, and stands next to him. He just wants him to move. It's like he's dead, just - well, of course, he might be. But not here.
Gene rubs a hand over his face, and pinches the bridge of his nose.
'You're not really subtle, are you?'
It doesn't take a genius to figure out what this is telling him. Christ, maybe Deacon's just going to sit here until he comes home, and gives him something to do.
He can't deny there's something sad about it. Something compelling about the slump of the man, so different to when he was gobbing off in the office, yelling about his phone. Are they all like that, behind closed doors?
He doesn't want to know.
'Yeah,' he says, quietly. 'I'm done.'