He gets dressed in the half-light of the motel room, grumbling as he tugs on his boots. He jabs his beanie onto his head and looks at the mirror above the sink in that tiny, cramped bathroom, staring back at the reflection he sees: his right eye suddenly flashes yellow, looking around wildly in the socket, as if it isn't his own. The slit in pupil turns strange, animal-like as if something from the deep, and then it's gone as quick as it came.
Hours have a weird way of keeping tabs on you.
Linden trusts his instincts. More than magic ties Hands and apprentices together. It doesn't always work, but for some reason, he's sure that this time it will.
Christ, he'll just be happy if he tracks her down to somewhere normal. A diner, maybe. A dive bar without too many overlookers. Wouldn't that be nice? ]
[ did she always know that would be the case? probably.
sometimes teagan asked herself what she was expecting. was she waiting for the day, the night, when he finally wouldn't come? did she want him to lose his temper, rather than nose-dive into resignation? did it even matter? on the few occasions she bothers to consider her own motivations for longer than five minutes, she always comes to the same conclusion.
no, it doesn't matter.
because he keeps turning up.
they know each other well enough, by this point. and by this point, teagan has her doe-like eyes wide and sparkling for some stranger at the bar, who's falling for it. hook, line and sinker. definitely a bar, not a diner, and with plenty of onlookers. she isn't always so mean. but tonight, she is. ]
[ She isn't always so mean, but tonight she is. Linden's mouth immediately presses to a line when he spots her, a shock of blonde hair in a place with sticky floors and a more rough and tumble crowd. Two people lazily play pool. There's music, the likes of Joan Jett, Blondie. Not much else.
Linden takes off his beanie. Scrubs a hand through his hair and slides in next to Teagan, wordlessly lifting a finger and brows at the bartender to flag down his drink.
Doesn't acknowledge her, for a minute.
Then he says it lightly, like he doesn't even know her:— ]
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text.
Thought you were back in the motel
Where the hell did you go
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and then decided i wanted a beer
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[ Or is magic going to save his ass, for the upteenth time? ]
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you know me better than that
[ there's no fun in telling. ]
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I'm not getting dressed just to find you
[ Says the man while he is already putting on his shirt. ]
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anyway you're definitely not going to get arrested for not coming to find me, so there ya go
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He gets dressed in the half-light of the motel room, grumbling as he tugs on his boots. He jabs his beanie onto his head and looks at the mirror above the sink in that tiny, cramped bathroom, staring back at the reflection he sees: his right eye suddenly flashes yellow, looking around wildly in the socket, as if it isn't his own. The slit in pupil turns strange, animal-like as if something from the deep, and then it's gone as quick as it came.
Hours have a weird way of keeping tabs on you.
Linden trusts his instincts. More than magic ties Hands and apprentices together. It doesn't always work, but for some reason, he's sure that this time it will.
Christ, he'll just be happy if he tracks her down to somewhere normal. A diner, maybe. A dive bar without too many overlookers. Wouldn't that be nice? ]
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sometimes teagan asked herself what she was expecting. was she waiting for the day, the night, when he finally wouldn't come? did she want him to lose his temper, rather than nose-dive into resignation? did it even matter? on the few occasions she bothers to consider her own motivations for longer than five minutes, she always comes to the same conclusion.
no, it doesn't matter.
because he keeps turning up.
they know each other well enough, by this point. and by this point, teagan has her doe-like eyes wide and sparkling for some stranger at the bar, who's falling for it. hook, line and sinker. definitely a bar, not a diner, and with plenty of onlookers. she isn't always so mean. but tonight, she is. ]
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Linden takes off his beanie. Scrubs a hand through his hair and slides in next to Teagan, wordlessly lifting a finger and brows at the bartender to flag down his drink.
Doesn't acknowledge her, for a minute.
Then he says it lightly, like he doesn't even know her:— ]
You could do better than him, you know.
[ Breezily, like it's just an observation. ]