Re: The Jaded/The Disaffected
Emil did what he did because he wanted to. It came down to that. Decision making wasn't a calculated effort. He didn't think as obviously as the other guy. He thought, he did: done. It wasn't a try-on. Emil's touch was efficient, he wanted to see the ring, he saw the ring, weird high Goth vibe and all, done. Whatever darkness the guy had in his family, Emil wasn't interested. Wasn't cruel, was just fact. Yeah, he had issues, he was wearing them across his chest. If he wanted to work the emo darkness shit, he needed to pedal a little softer. Try-hards didn't get the same attention.
Emil's icy blue eyes were utterly dispassionate in the face of the guy's grin. Daddy. Yeah, he could see it. Whatever Daddy did, it didn't cut the mustard. Maybe Daddy didn't spend enough on band tickets. White collar, conservative, something the piercings were meant to stop dead at the front door until Daddy's day was fucked. The envelope in his back pocket was rucked, he could feel the line of card embed itself against the bony flat of his ass. Waited the guy out.
He started walking, instead. He had a long stride. It came with the height. He didn't look to see if the guy followed because the guy would. He was that kind of guy. He walked in the opposite direction to the way he'd come because Emil had no intention of walking the guy anywhere near his own business. The mail room wasn't his business, it was just a speculative effort to scare up some quick cash. He ignored the quip; the guy seemed like the kind of guy comfortable with quips. Emil was comfortable with silence. You could make silence uncomfortable, if you wanted people to talk. Didn't think the guy needed silence to talk, he was a gap-filler.