Silently, Wyatt bends to collect the medals with patient, calm but efficient swipes, gathering them up in his hands. Then the coat, folded neatly over his arm, thinking maybe it's for the best if he doesn't crowd Glitch after all. A few seconds lingering here or there shouldn't make too much of a difference.
He takes a deep breath outside Glitch's door, hand on the doorknob. It's just stress, he tells himself. It's just frustration.
He opens the door quietly, hanging the coat over one of the tall armchairs, and arranges the medals on the table at their center. He doesn't know what to say.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-08-27 12:50 pm (UTC)He takes a deep breath outside Glitch's door, hand on the doorknob. It's just stress, he tells himself. It's just frustration.
He opens the door quietly, hanging the coat over one of the tall armchairs, and arranges the medals on the table at their center. He doesn't know what to say.