Re: Bar: Cat C/Bruce W
Bruce didn't move. He was leaning in place on the step, the slab of concrete before the door a wide platform with him in the center. The opening of the door colored his features in neon pink and orange, lending a strangely childish cast to an otherwise sober mien. He was expecting her to be on edge, but this was a bit far and his betrayal of surprise was a slow blink of his gaze as avoided an automatically physical reaction to the site of her arm coming up in the trapezoid of light in front of him.
He did not respond in the language she used. "You don't need that." His weight was slightly different now, more distributed across the hips and the set of his heels. He didn't have enough fear or adrenaline to dull any resulting pain, which made his eyes crease. "Can I come in?"