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2017-08-11 02:08 am (UTC)
That Tim eats like a child isn't news to anyone, least of all Kira. Usually, the messy way he uses his mouth is for Kira's benefit, and he turns to hold the edge of the table, closing himself in Tim's immediate space. "If I'm going to be busy, I might as well bring something to show for it."
Being busy of his own choosing is the part to leave out, and he gives it a beat before he adds, "Veronica left me with a few things to take care of."
Close enough to emotional to back them both off any kind of conversational ledge, he imagines. And it feels like standing on one, Tim coming up in his space and--it's not just the feelings, giving him a presence. Everything between them is the smell of peaches, the hard glass in Kira's hand, the way he might be able to lie and evade, but Tim might find he can't. Tim feels off-balance in a way he shouldn't know to feel, and Kira--doesn't like it. Doesn't like how Tim doesn't like it.
Leaning into the table, he hooks his foot around Tim's heel and ankle, tugging anyway. "How's your leg healing," he asks, like he didn't see it up close and personal a few days back.
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