no_sin_but | (no subject)

(no subject)

Stairs are not...let us try this again.

Where would you prefer to collapse, your room or the road? For a stairway is really a road, and this one has heavy traffic, but...

But you do not choose when, you do not choose where, you do not choose who triggers it.

This is why Marlowe is sitting at on the landing of one of the stairs on one of the floors, head against the wall and eye closed. One leg drawn up, the other foot resting on the second stair down; he could just be thinking.

People's knuckles aren't normally so white when they do that, though.

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"Same last name on the passports, no questions with just having one room, I wear a ring. I think we already cover the constant bickering quite well."

"Sounds easy enough."

But a lot of things sound easy.

"Expecting anything more difficult?"

"Not particularly," she (lies) says.

"And I expect I can roll with any surprises."

"Good."

He tilts her head slightly to the side and then releases her.

She resists the urge to snap her teeth after his fingers.

"Anything else?"

"I'll let you know." And with that, and some clicking of joints because, really, he's not getting any younger, Marlowe gets to his feet.

"I'll let you know." A bit louder, more conversation than memo-to-self.

She stands up, climbs a step higher, then pauses.

"I'll look forward to it," she says, smiling faintly.

Another step to the landing, then turns down the hall, stopping in front of the first door on the right. She slips her key into the lock, then looks up.

"Good night, Kit."

"Sleep well," and with that he's turned and gone up the next flight of stairs.

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