[Were he able to read that look in her eyes--and likely, he can--he'd not know how to answer. Right now, he is harried, and angry, and feels a fool. But later? Later he will be okay. Some baseline of "okay", at least, and life will drag on, day by day as it always does.
He tilts his head into her touch. But only for a moment. And that moment is gone in a whisper.]
Shall I be cliche and wish you au revior? [A beat, a strained pull of a corner of his lip.] Goodnight.
[And with that, he lingers for but a moment more, before he's turning to hop off the edge of the roof, eerie-quiet, and not to be seen for the rest of the night.]
no subject
He tilts his head into her touch. But only for a moment. And that moment is gone in a whisper.]
Shall I be cliche and wish you au revior? [A beat, a strained pull of a corner of his lip.] Goodnight.
[And with that, he lingers for but a moment more, before he's turning to hop off the edge of the roof, eerie-quiet, and not to be seen for the rest of the night.]