[He's still got that passive tugging on the cluster and when she lifts her foot, his body's jolted back just a little from the force. But they're his! His again and he crushes the wires to his chest, protective as he leans back against the TV stand.
There's all sorts of things in his eyes when he flicks his gaze back up to meet hers'. Confusion, fear, indignation. They catch her hair, too the way it's flung over her shoulder so long and sleek. Who is this? Another soul, somehow made it to Valhalla? He's judgmental when he thinks: she's not the type. Not someone heroic.]
-- Owe you what?
[Hissed at her like some sort of cornered animal more than a person.]
no subject
There's all sorts of things in his eyes when he flicks his gaze back up to meet hers'. Confusion, fear, indignation. They catch her hair, too the way it's flung over her shoulder so long and sleek. Who is this? Another soul, somehow made it to Valhalla? He's judgmental when he thinks: she's not the type. Not someone heroic.]
-- Owe you what?
[Hissed at her like some sort of cornered animal more than a person.]