Declan suffered some (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} setbacks) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} rooms, |
I don't glare.
[Although Declan was kind of glaring when he protested that much. As opposed as he was to long-lasting, unjustified cheerfulness, Declan found it impossible to dislike Mikey because of it. Mikey radiated with positive energy and there were no apparent ulterior motives for smiling as often as he did. Initially, it had been alien to Declan, but now he accepted it. Declan wasn't raised to be in good spirits, but the smiles were beginning to come easier than they ever used to, particularly when he thought that nobody was watching. Declan had always been happiest when on his own. As a child, wandering the urbane gardens of that massive Murphy home. In adulthood, cast out to sea without a word of English to be heard for weeks at a time. Maybe it was just the quiet he liked, but there was no such thing as quiet at the firehouse, with the cavorting shivaree of video games and masculine laughter on less active afternoons... and despite that, he was adjusting just fine.
He didn't even flinch away when Clementine began to rub the tension out of his shoulders. The muscles there were knotted like rocks, but the pain of that was a minor echo when compared to his knee. He hadn't even noticed that his shoulders were sore until Clementine touched him. His exhale was rough, and he rolled one shoulder forward with a stretch. Carrying around all of that equipment and injured people definitely took its toll.]
So long as she keeps the coffee pot full, I'm sure the Evie woman will do fine. [He glanced between the two of them, twisting his head to catch a glimpse of Clementine.] Did a doctor give both of you the 'all clear'?