( his eyes adjust though not by much. it's still very dark in here, but the sounds of her moving become louder, more deliberate; her voice is — familiar? familiar-ish? recognition that's vague and not quite steven's, formless and amorphous. green hair. steven frowns and it's more clearly thoughtful than the near-permanent frowns marc tends to wear, though it shifts into vague surprise as she tells him she thought he was dead.
(not him, he supposes. marc. the body—
ah. lottie.)
he's always hated attempting to navigate marc's life, marc's messes. he's willing to concede it hadn't exactly worked out well when their personal life had been his (mostly), their social life had been jake (mostly), and their — extracurricular life had been marc's, but it'd been sufficient for long enough. it'd been a form of balance they hadn't quite been able to hit on since and by now, he's out of practice.
steven can't imagine he's told her much about himself — deliberate or not, marc has always done an incredible impression of a man with no interests, no hobbies, and very few joys in life. a benefit in this situation, maybe, because steven isn't really sure where to start with it: I thought you'd died, and he almost comments that it wouldn't be the first time.
he glances towards a window — not helpful, the outside world is much the same as it has been for the last god knows how many hours: desolate, empty, aged. )
So did I, ( he settles on, wry agreement and dry amusement. ) I haven't met anyone else.
no subject
(not him, he supposes. marc. the body—
ah. lottie.)
he's always hated attempting to navigate marc's life, marc's messes. he's willing to concede it hadn't exactly worked out well when their personal life had been his (mostly), their social life had been jake (mostly), and their — extracurricular life had been marc's, but it'd been sufficient for long enough. it'd been a form of balance they hadn't quite been able to hit on since and by now, he's out of practice.
steven can't imagine he's told her much about himself — deliberate or not, marc has always done an incredible impression of a man with no interests, no hobbies, and very few joys in life. a benefit in this situation, maybe, because steven isn't really sure where to start with it: I thought you'd died, and he almost comments that it wouldn't be the first time.
he glances towards a window — not helpful, the outside world is much the same as it has been for the last god knows how many hours: desolate, empty, aged. )
So did I, ( he settles on, wry agreement and dry amusement. ) I haven't met anyone else.