[There is no answer that is quick to come. No conclusion that rises. That rests in the way she holds herself nor the way she cannot look at him. And the flush is just as bright and just as prominent as it had been when he had gotten home. The tone is just as sharp - and there is something like a faint note of confusion that settles into forefront of his thoughts. Usually not this quick to snap. Able to read her a little better, now - and he's letting her yank a bag from his arms. Not quite following her. Not quite yet.
And his forgetfulness must have compounded it. Knowing he had never been quite good with phones since Tokyo-3. Since the stillness of his last apartment. The moments and the minutes he would wait on a command. He would - and he's reeling his thoughts back in, as she's speaking again. As he's carefully toeing off his shoes. (Practiced. Knowing how the laces were too tight in some places. Knowing where he had to step on the heel. Almost loose with repeated weight. Some afterthought. And - It was likely not the last time he would hear it. Something of a poorer habit. Something he had attempted to amend in the past, though - He's catching the way she cuts herself off. Catching the start of the word. Knowing what it must be. What it could be. And he's quiet, for a moment, before speaking. Voice still rounded.]
I will attempt to remember my phone, next time. [And it is a silent note of question that follows it. That lingers, though he's opting not to voice it. For the moment.]
no subject
And his forgetfulness must have compounded it. Knowing he had never been quite good with phones since Tokyo-3. Since the stillness of his last apartment. The moments and the minutes he would wait on a command. He would - and he's reeling his thoughts back in, as she's speaking again. As he's carefully toeing off his shoes. (Practiced. Knowing how the laces were too tight in some places. Knowing where he had to step on the heel. Almost loose with repeated weight. Some afterthought. And - It was likely not the last time he would hear it. Something of a poorer habit. Something he had attempted to amend in the past, though - He's catching the way she cuts herself off. Catching the start of the word. Knowing what it must be. What it could be. And he's quiet, for a moment, before speaking. Voice still rounded.]
I will attempt to remember my phone, next time. [And it is a silent note of question that follows it. That lingers, though he's opting not to voice it. For the moment.]