( she's tense and, incredibly, doesn't become less so the more steven speaks, and idly, he wonders what the fuck marc did or said to her to make her so wary. (he doesn't put it down to her having become familiar enough with marc to be able to pinpoint differences in body language, in their ways of speaking.) he looks her over, contemplation pulling at the edges of his features as she expresses her surprise and then he shrugs. )

That's probably why you're the first person I've seen, ( steven points out, not disagreeing with her assertion, and he looks back towards the door as if in challenge, to see if anyone else at all is going to burst in and join them. he's aware, quietly and sinkingly, of how small the darkness makes the space feel. dimness has a way of doing that, he knows, has a way of making even the largest of spaces feel suffocating. he's always put it down to the quietness, the stillness.

steven isn't convinced that waiting it out's quite the right thing to do, but frankly, he's not sure what else there is to do. building hop until they find some kind of answer? answer to what? and then what? still— )

If I'm going to be forced to take a siesta, I'd much prefer it to be on my terms and not— ( he matches her gesture at the building. "somewhere like this". )