[He waits, prepared for some ultimatum that he isn't ready to hear, or more anger. Instead, there is nothing more than a few sentences uttered within reason. No hands thrown or glasses broken.
This has happened before, so many times, and yet he still flinches. Waiting for a sharp blow to the chin or a puncturing of the flesh, and neither occurs, not today.
The door closes on Rex before he can finish, the urge to turn and run rising. But if he does run. He could sprint in the opposite direction and never return, this train is seemingly never-ending, running for an infinite number of miles.]
Yeah.
[But he wants to move forward, even though he's tempted to drag his feet as he does.]
no subject
This has happened before, so many times, and yet he still flinches. Waiting for a sharp blow to the chin or a puncturing of the flesh, and neither occurs, not today.
The door closes on Rex before he can finish, the urge to turn and run rising. But if he does run. He could sprint in the opposite direction and never return, this train is seemingly never-ending, running for an infinite number of miles.]
Yeah.
[But he wants to move forward, even though he's tempted to drag his feet as he does.]
I'll see you later.
[Rex's number also decreases.]