Punishment by poking. That was a new one. Royce was sure that he had never been threatened by a fork before. Unless that fork was about to eat all of his dinner, which, then he had been threatened by one but the threat of having one poking at him? It was laughable. There were far scarier things to be poked by than silverware. Oh. Wasn't that clever? Silverware. Silverware. But he knew that Charlie wouldn't really hurt him or had the desire to (yet, a little voice hissed in the back of his mind). At the most, she would poke him with the fork but only lightly so and only enough to make a point.
What was the point again? Something about her going crazy and him being careful about not pushing her to it. Yeah, something like that.
"Fork poking? Ah, you've found my achilles heel. I'm deathly afraid of forks." He replied with a teasing grin. "I guess I better watch myself then. Make sure I don't push you over the edge of insanity with my ramblings and laughing." But naturally, another little chuckle came out of him. He didn't even try to stop it. It wasn't like she was serious. She was just ...
Staring very intently at him right now.
And suddenly, Royce felt like he was under a microscope.
He watched as her face melted out of embarrassment and into a soft contemplation. She wasn't studying him, exactly, but it felt like she was giving him a second look. Like there was something on his face that she was trying to figure out. What was there to figure out? Could she see up his nose or something? Did he look different upside-down? It wasn't that the expression on her face was damning but having her look at him like she was reading his mind, it made him briefly wonder if she actually could. That was stupid though. He had only heard stories but he had never encountered anyone who could do it.
"Whaddya mean? I was happy. I mean, before now. I've been happy." The words came out too quickly and he regretted the snappy tone instantly. He tilted her chair further back, almost perilously close to falling. Almost since he had his full grip on the seat and he'd let himself get hit by a truck before he let her fall. And messing with her chair was the one thing he could control at the moment. His emotions had been out of is hand for weeks now and he was definitely losing his grip on the direction of this conversation. So he played with her chair, keeping her as close to him as he could without actually physically touching her. "What do you mean different?"