[His mouth closes, pressed into a fine and flat line, wondering how this interaction has devolved so badly, so quickly. Frayed nerves and sleeplessness lend to the hair-trigger of a temper—and the man in front of him, who he has never met before, is oil and water to the calm, isolated quiet he's sought by coming here at such an hour of the night.
Unmoving even as the exit reveals itself in the open doorway, he watches that intentional movement, tracking it, questioning the ease at which it adopts that messy splay of limbs on the bench. He should leave.
He doesn't. Perhaps because it would require him to step over those crossed ankles, or else circumvent them entirely but going around, and the idea is so ridiculous he can't coax himself toward it.]
I don't believe you. [Yes, there is worry to cause harm, a sorely bruised wound agitated by recent nightmares. Sasuke wishes he had stayed his tongue; he feels chastised to have it pointed out, and worse that it is now known.] Prove it to me.
no subject
Unmoving even as the exit reveals itself in the open doorway, he watches that intentional movement, tracking it, questioning the ease at which it adopts that messy splay of limbs on the bench. He should leave.
He doesn't. Perhaps because it would require him to step over those crossed ankles, or else circumvent them entirely but going around, and the idea is so ridiculous he can't coax himself toward it.]
I don't believe you. [Yes, there is worry to cause harm, a sorely bruised wound agitated by recent nightmares. Sasuke wishes he had stayed his tongue; he feels chastised to have it pointed out, and worse that it is now known.] Prove it to me.