[He huffs, grinning a little, caught out. He looks off to one side, pursing his lips as he tries to decide how - and what - to explain. Hank could tell him about his post-it notes at home, scribbled out in whatever fleeting seconds of optimism he can carve out of his day and stuck around the mirror where he can't not see in the morning - but then he'd have to explain those, too.]
Fuck it, lean up a little.
[He takes a drink, more than a sip, this time, and stands, tugging at the blanket against the wall behind them. They are carved in there but there's not that many to show, just two - well, most of two and some change - little phrases, so at least it doesn't make him look like the world's weirdest serial killer. Yet. There's the one behind him, hang in there, with the drawing below it that's now mostly blurred. There's the start of one at the other end nearest Barabas, if Barabas leans far enough forward to let Hank pull the blanket out from behind him. That one so far just says 'goo'. The one between those two says 'wake up and be fabu' and yeah that one's not done either, but it's close enough that he can't pass it off as anything else. It's that one Hank makes the face at.]
That one was a little, uh- funnier? [Is that the word? The irony in this little habit's so tired by now he honestly can't remember if this shit's actually funny or not.] -When I was the only one who was ever gonna see it.
[The plan to leave it at that and let the guy think whatever sputters out after all of one second. Any silence - at least on Hank's end - is too awkward to deal with.]
My artistic tastes usually run a little differently but uh, I guess everyone needs some variety.
no subject
[Hank glances behind himself again.]
Fuck.
[He huffs, grinning a little, caught out. He looks off to one side, pursing his lips as he tries to decide how - and what - to explain. Hank could tell him about his post-it notes at home, scribbled out in whatever fleeting seconds of optimism he can carve out of his day and stuck around the mirror where he can't not see in the morning - but then he'd have to explain those, too.]
Fuck it, lean up a little.
[He takes a drink, more than a sip, this time, and stands, tugging at the blanket against the wall behind them. They are carved in there but there's not that many to show, just two - well, most of two and some change - little phrases, so at least it doesn't make him look like the world's weirdest serial killer. Yet. There's the one behind him, hang in there, with the drawing below it that's now mostly blurred. There's the start of one at the other end nearest Barabas, if Barabas leans far enough forward to let Hank pull the blanket out from behind him. That one so far just says 'goo'. The one between those two says 'wake up and be fabu' and yeah that one's not done either, but it's close enough that he can't pass it off as anything else. It's that one Hank makes the face at.]
That one was a little, uh- funnier? [Is that the word? The irony in this little habit's so tired by now he honestly can't remember if this shit's actually funny or not.] -When I was the only one who was ever gonna see it.
[The plan to leave it at that and let the guy think whatever sputters out after all of one second. Any silence - at least on Hank's end - is too awkward to deal with.]
My artistic tastes usually run a little differently but uh, I guess everyone needs some variety.