Re: Log: Seven/Liam
He watched him. He watched him touch the typewriter, fingers playing over the keys, but he didn't say anything for a while. His hand dropped away from his face, fingers finding the comfortable hiding place of his pockets as he stood there, shoulders hunched up slightly, making himself a smaller figure than he was normally.
"I don't remember, honestly," Liam said after a moment, shuffling forward on bare feet, coming up to stand beside Seven in front of the typewriter, reaching out himself to run a finger along the case. No dust clung to the surface, cleaned and polished, taken care of. Loved. "But it felt important. I didn't want to leave it behind."
He drew his hand away after a moment, hid long fingers back in his pocket, turning towards Seven then, closer than he had been in ages. His head was tilted up slightly, taking into account the difference in their height. The quiet lingered with him, a swipe of his tongue over his lips before he looked down, shuffled back, one hip on the edge of the desk. Distance again, spreading between them. "Why are you here?" he asked after a moment, recalling the conversation. Him. Marta. People that worried and he couldn't understand. It seemed normal to him, this way of life. Normal unless he thought too hard, and thinking only brought trouble, brought pain and discomfort. So he didn't think or question. He just did as he was supposed to. Just lived and existed.