Re: B&B: Janus, Steve, Atticus
Janus was busy thinking himself ill-used in the conversation, and he only just noticed that the temperature was spiking because he caught a drop of sweat spreading down Steve's neck and into his shirt collar. Janus pressed his mouth together, a flat line in the shadow of a long night without a razor and no notice of his appearance. He showed no discomfort or notice of the heat, the wrinkles of the bus stop uniform there from a night of sitting at a desk and nothing else. He could still hear the radio echoing in his ears and the boredom combined with fatigue was making him more irritable than usual.
"I let you do it, didn't I? Off you went, instead of asking for help, or taking any, come to think of it. You did it your way just fine, didn't you." The demon snorted. "Well done." Janus put more distance between himself and Atticus, planting the coffee cup on the table, still half-full and doctored with more sugar than Starbucks had in a blender. His efforts to control the ambient temperature mostly worked, though somebody should probably open a window.
He moved past Steve out into the hall, and bent double to hoist up one of the boxes. "Jeez, they're not books, they're bricks." Directing bloodshot eyes in the captain's direction, he raised his brows. "What floor?" As if poor Steve even knew yet.