Post by Luck Harris on Jul 22, 2024 6:29:56 GMT -5
[nospaces]
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In the moments he'd spent speaking and scrawling his phone number across the back of his business card, Luck was aware of Walter's emotional backslide. He'd been braced for it. Not only braced for it, he'd been searching for it. In a way, prompting it. And the feel of it was achingly vacant — cool and yawning, like the smooth, devastating slip of a carving blade into something deep and vital. It prickled at Luck's skin beneath his shirt. Made him want to breathe deep as if it was himself that needed steadying. But he kept himself poised and light as he continued and slid the card across the table. [break][break]
When he looked up, and watched as Walter wiped a sleeve across his wet cheek, his face threatened to fall. Something in him twinged guiltily... apologetically... and he tipped his head, blinking rapidly. It was obvious he'd struck some sort of chord with him but he hadn't expected it to reverberate so strongly. To rock him so suddenly and solidly. [break][break]
But why not? Didn't it make sense? Walter's file had outlined quite thoroughly the trauma he'd gone through. Luck had spent the past fifteen or so minutes surmising what depths of hurt and pain he was concealing with his sunniness. And he'd been trying this whole time to get a glimpse at it. It shouldn't have surprised him. Maybe he'd hoped, though, that he was wrong. [break][break]
Walter recovered. Completely. He slipped back into that cheer and big-grinned warmth and — if Luck hadn't his own Gift working for him — it might have actually been believable that he was entirely "okay". But Luck could feel the lingering recesses of discomfort tucked away. He tongued at his teeth, thinking to himself as Walter bounced back, joked, giggled, and went the whole nine yards once more — even offered to be Luck's sounding board again: it all looked so effortless. Expert. Like he'd been practicing hiding his griefs and these slips his whole life. And fuck — hadn't he been? And didn't it make sense for him to feel that need to? With all that'd happened in his life when he hadn't? [break][break]
The thought of it all was dully aching. [break][break]
But Walter's short lunch was coming to an end. Luck let his mouth quirk as he exclaimed, wolfed down the rest of his food, and hopped up to excuse himself. He nodded, grin broadening with intentional warmth. "Thanks, Walter. It was nice to meet you, too. I'm sure I'll be by again. If not for coffee, then maybe the company." [break][break]
As planned, he stayed at his table for the remainder of his own, longer lunch break. He pushed aside his plate of untouched croissants, pulled the laptop from his bag, and busied himself with light work. Mostly he answered emails, checked work chats, and confirmed various appointments. He made a couple lines about Walter, too, in a brief note to his supervisor that he suspected wouldn't be read quite as thoroughly or taken quite as seriously as he wished it would. He knew a lot of good people worked at the Sector. But sometimes it seemed they dragged their feet when it came to involving themselves before incidents happened; far more inclined to leaping into action only after damage was done.[break][break]
All the while, he kept a feel out for Walter's presence in the shop; running a mental inventory of the man's emotions as he interacted with other customers and went about his normal activities. Nothing leaped out at him and, finally, he shot off a couple inquiries to Tawny... added a final note to Walter's file about his initial meeting being "inconclusive" and that "follow-up was advised"... then, he packed everything back up. He cleaned off his table, tossed his trash, waved at Walter from the door, then stepped back into the street with one napkined-croissant in hand and the other held in his teeth. [break][break]
As he moved back in the general direction of work, he slipped the phone from his pocket and clicked open Walt's message to add him to his contact book. Then, with an inward shrug, he decided maybe being a little more direct couldn't go entirely amiss. He typed back: 'Thanks for lunch. Feel free to reach out if you need anything. Or hey, let me know when you've got a performance that you're particularly excited about. Maybe I can drop by and have a listen. Luck'
everybody needs some sympathy[break]hard to get a grip with all these broken fingers
FISHING FOR THE ANSWERS
with a line and sinker; we don't always see the bright side
In the moments he'd spent speaking and scrawling his phone number across the back of his business card, Luck was aware of Walter's emotional backslide. He'd been braced for it. Not only braced for it, he'd been searching for it. In a way, prompting it. And the feel of it was achingly vacant — cool and yawning, like the smooth, devastating slip of a carving blade into something deep and vital. It prickled at Luck's skin beneath his shirt. Made him want to breathe deep as if it was himself that needed steadying. But he kept himself poised and light as he continued and slid the card across the table. [break][break]
When he looked up, and watched as Walter wiped a sleeve across his wet cheek, his face threatened to fall. Something in him twinged guiltily... apologetically... and he tipped his head, blinking rapidly. It was obvious he'd struck some sort of chord with him but he hadn't expected it to reverberate so strongly. To rock him so suddenly and solidly. [break][break]
But why not? Didn't it make sense? Walter's file had outlined quite thoroughly the trauma he'd gone through. Luck had spent the past fifteen or so minutes surmising what depths of hurt and pain he was concealing with his sunniness. And he'd been trying this whole time to get a glimpse at it. It shouldn't have surprised him. Maybe he'd hoped, though, that he was wrong. [break][break]
Walter recovered. Completely. He slipped back into that cheer and big-grinned warmth and — if Luck hadn't his own Gift working for him — it might have actually been believable that he was entirely "okay". But Luck could feel the lingering recesses of discomfort tucked away. He tongued at his teeth, thinking to himself as Walter bounced back, joked, giggled, and went the whole nine yards once more — even offered to be Luck's sounding board again: it all looked so effortless. Expert. Like he'd been practicing hiding his griefs and these slips his whole life. And fuck — hadn't he been? And didn't it make sense for him to feel that need to? With all that'd happened in his life when he hadn't? [break][break]
The thought of it all was dully aching. [break][break]
But Walter's short lunch was coming to an end. Luck let his mouth quirk as he exclaimed, wolfed down the rest of his food, and hopped up to excuse himself. He nodded, grin broadening with intentional warmth. "Thanks, Walter. It was nice to meet you, too. I'm sure I'll be by again. If not for coffee, then maybe the company." [break][break]
As planned, he stayed at his table for the remainder of his own, longer lunch break. He pushed aside his plate of untouched croissants, pulled the laptop from his bag, and busied himself with light work. Mostly he answered emails, checked work chats, and confirmed various appointments. He made a couple lines about Walter, too, in a brief note to his supervisor that he suspected wouldn't be read quite as thoroughly or taken quite as seriously as he wished it would. He knew a lot of good people worked at the Sector. But sometimes it seemed they dragged their feet when it came to involving themselves before incidents happened; far more inclined to leaping into action only after damage was done.[break][break]
All the while, he kept a feel out for Walter's presence in the shop; running a mental inventory of the man's emotions as he interacted with other customers and went about his normal activities. Nothing leaped out at him and, finally, he shot off a couple inquiries to Tawny... added a final note to Walter's file about his initial meeting being "inconclusive" and that "follow-up was advised"... then, he packed everything back up. He cleaned off his table, tossed his trash, waved at Walter from the door, then stepped back into the street with one napkined-croissant in hand and the other held in his teeth. [break][break]
As he moved back in the general direction of work, he slipped the phone from his pocket and clicked open Walt's message to add him to his contact book. Then, with an inward shrug, he decided maybe being a little more direct couldn't go entirely amiss. He typed back: 'Thanks for lunch. Feel free to reach out if you need anything. Or hey, let me know when you've got a performance that you're particularly excited about. Maybe I can drop by and have a listen. Luck'
everybody needs some sympathy[break]hard to get a grip with all these broken fingers
Tag: Walter Bell [break]
We can end here if you'd like![break]Otherwise, give me a nudge for changes!
We can end here if you'd like![break]Otherwise, give me a nudge for changes!
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