Re: Log: Liam & Seven
[He’d been staring sort of vacantly at the floor of the hallway in the seconds between knocking and when the door swung open, chin tilted towards his chest so that his eyes flicked up to meet Liam’s gaze from beneath the shadow of blond-brown eyelashes. One hand was braced against the doorframe over his head, tendons standing out from muscle between his wrist and the cuff of a pushed-up sleeve. The other had been tugging idly at his tie, pulling the windsor knot down from the hollow of his throat to rest against collarbone so that it didn’t feel so much like a hand wrapped tight and set on strangulation.
Seven’s eyes didn’t sweep. They didn’t explore the length of Liam’s narrow frame. Green only stared into blue, like maybe he could drill holes through the miasma of bullshit that he had come to expect when they faced off against each other. Except that there was that smile to throw him off. It was small, but he recognized the way that it pulled at the corners of Liam’s eyes. And that made him pretty certain it was all real.]
Hey yourself. [His voice, the usual quiet rumble, seemed to fill up the space around them as he stepped into the empty apartment and cast his gaze around. The old typewriter was noted with a twinge of warmth, but it couldn’t pull him away from the heavy-handed scrawl of words that had been painted on the walls. Those words and those walls, they scared him. Made him think he could taste something metallic in his mouth.]
It’s fine. Hell of a lot nicer than some places I’ve lived. [This part was spoken towards the ceiling, as Seven strained his eyes in an attempt to make out some of the smaller words painted up near the wood moulding.]