Rust has turned around and is planting himself back on the bed, one arm draping over a knee with acute precision that only comes from years of practice -- and the other, holding the mug of coffee up to his face. He knows that's humor Will's trying at, and doesn't look the least bit startled, as he calmly sips his coffee.
He watches Will like a sleepy cat knows there's a human moving around in the same room as it. "I just didn't feel like having to go back upstairs, to be honest."
Rust can barely be bothered to reach for one of the books in a stack on the floor a couple feet away: from the local library, anything and everything he could find about pagan religions and deities with antlers.
He feels an itch to start reading them, but the knowledge of having company keeps him tethered to his coffee mug instead. It makes him glance sideways to the blinded window, only having to hear the rain to know it's still going on outside. Glance back to Will, taking a mental note that he could end up being here the whole night.
Which is fine, really.
Rust checks the cigarette in the ashtray -- no longer lit, but there's a solid inch left on it, and worth smoking. He sets the mug down to free both of his hands for the endeavor. "D' you, uh...wanna...talk about Lecter s' more?"
He pauses to take a few puffs off his renewed cigarette, coaxing the fire to hold on to the exposed and sightly ashen tobacco. "Or, you wanna talk about something else?" It's an add on, but not an afterthought: rather, a cleverly laid alternative, and really, Rust's true intention.
no subject
He watches Will like a sleepy cat knows there's a human moving around in the same room as it. "I just didn't feel like having to go back upstairs, to be honest."
Rust can barely be bothered to reach for one of the books in a stack on the floor a couple feet away: from the local library, anything and everything he could find about pagan religions and deities with antlers.
He feels an itch to start reading them, but the knowledge of having company keeps him tethered to his coffee mug instead. It makes him glance sideways to the blinded window, only having to hear the rain to know it's still going on outside. Glance back to Will, taking a mental note that he could end up being here the whole night.
Which is fine, really.
Rust checks the cigarette in the ashtray -- no longer lit, but there's a solid inch left on it, and worth smoking. He sets the mug down to free both of his hands for the endeavor. "D' you, uh...wanna...talk about Lecter s' more?"
He pauses to take a few puffs off his renewed cigarette, coaxing the fire to hold on to the exposed and sightly ashen tobacco. "Or, you wanna talk about something else?" It's an add on, but not an afterthought: rather, a cleverly laid alternative, and really, Rust's true intention.