It was there, just beneath the surface in that initial moment. The great white truth rippling it's deadly fins in the tarpit of her eyes. The memory was there, bulging from her disapproval, rattling it's chains with a push for release. It felt like forgotten pain, and Lukas even fell back a step, toward the door once more. His back against glass while red-rimmed eyes adjusted to this new version of her, she wasn't dolled up in her peptobismal dress, that skin had been shed.
But what was this anger clawing at the back of his throat? Some wounded animal awareness that raised the hackles and drew his teeth into a gnash behind closed lips. Like a doberman recalling one of too many kicks to his side. It was brief, because her smile -- as resisted as it was -- distracted him. Left him swallowing the stale, metallic taste of confusion and straightening with a limber release of boozed up muscles as he pushed away from the entrance. What the hell was wrong with him?
His fingers raised in a subtle wave, suddenly quite shy. He'd never had left her such a cutesy note if he'd thought he'd have to see her again. It was why he'd hightailed it out of the diner before she could make it back around to collect on his debt.