[Manabu doesn't argue, instead letting Grey get to it and himself...pacing around. there's not a lot to pack up when it's packed up - no way they're taking this scuzzed-up sleeping bag, right? that's going in the nearest dumpster for sure. but the rest...
right. the data stick. Manabu double-triple-checks to make sure he's got it safely pocketed. all that takes about...say...two minutes?
which leaves the remaining time for him to sit cross-legged in front of the mind-wandering Grey, staring at him, etching that expression and his features to memory. any sense of shame or silliness at doing so is earnestly sidelined in favor of just...looking. and feeling sad about it.
he...he weirdly hoped Grey would change his mind. or say he'd not go away. but that wasn't realistic.
still. he hoped, in some foolish, childish way, that he would.]
no subject
right. the data stick. Manabu double-triple-checks to make sure he's got it safely pocketed. all that takes about...say...two minutes?
which leaves the remaining time for him to sit cross-legged in front of the mind-wandering Grey, staring at him, etching that expression and his features to memory. any sense of shame or silliness at doing so is earnestly sidelined in favor of just...looking. and feeling sad about it.
he...he weirdly hoped Grey would change his mind. or say he'd not go away. but that wasn't realistic.
still. he hoped, in some foolish, childish way, that he would.]