[Karen gives him a warning look that's not entirely effective, because she's only just managing not to laugh herself. It's only because she doesn't want to embarrass the kid behind the counter that she keeps it in, pressing her lips together as if physically stifling the reaction.
It's nights like this that she appreciates, the lulls in the storms she frequently gets herself caught in. On purpose. But it's these quiet moments, trying not to laugh at an absurd situation over a pizza, that keep her going when things really go sideways.]
Nope. I almost appreciate the ballsiness, though.
[And the fact that it's fairly respectful, as far as ways to being hit on goes.
When he gestures to the seat next to her, she arches a brow. One shoulder lifts in a shrug, head tipping to the side a bit as if to say, go ahead.
She watches him as he moves around the table, but only realizes what he's thinking when his arm settles easily around the back of her chair. Her knee stays where it is when his bumps against it, and her head turns in towards him, one hand covering her mouth. There's no keeping back the quiet chuckle that escapes.]
Oh, you're good.
[She shakes her head a little, looking amused as she pries one of the pepperoni off the top of her slice to pop it in her mouth. Karen's not the type of person to ask someone else to solve her problems. In fact, she'll just batter herself against them until she can shoulder her way through one way or another. Thus the fact that she was still up and working in the middle of the night. But she does appreciate it when someone else steps in to help. Especially in a subtle way like this.
He might notice that there's some tension in her shoulders, the kind that she carries day to day. Someone's that used talking her way out of a corner. But she relaxes a bit as he gets settled there, a sure sign that she's comfortable in his presence.]
[ Her knee stays where it is. Levi smiles one more time and lifts his shoulder into a brief shrug. Allows an easy, simple, ]
Only occasionally.
[ So they eat. And they drink.
Up close like this, his eyes stay bright the whole time. His arm stays where it is, too, eating his slice folded in half with his free hand, because he isn't a native New Yorker but there are rules to this whole thing. Levi picks around subjects of conversation — nothing about Oregon or Vermont, but about her neighborhood, how Foggy — was that his name, Foggy? — is doing. What she might read for fun. How Levi's currently staying in previous employer-provided accomodation, and he's barely been there at all, but somehow, the lady from the laundromat across the street already fucking hates him. Maybe it's because he told her her machine was out of quarters, once. What does Karen think — is that enough for a personal vendetta?
He barely makes it through two beers. Finishes the first glass, and then nurses half of his second, all the way until it can't possibly be cold or nice to drink anymore. Levi drops his arm from contact sometime after he starts in on his second slice. His knee still stays where it is, and his attention still orbits hers for the whole time.
Eventually, Levi settles back in his chair. Balls up his napkin, throwing it onto his plate with a soft huff of laughter. ]
Alright. I don't say this often, but I admit defeat.
[ College kid's left them alone, at least. Fixated more on their phone now, obviously swiping through Tinder or Hinge or whatever latest app's supposed to speed up that whole process. Pretty polite, all things considered. ]
[The beer is fine. The pizza's good, and the conversation is better. Karen even manages to behave herself - more or less - and not grill him on any of the topics that he told her not to ask about. Even though there's clearly a few times that she's considering it. Like she saw some kind of opening in something he said, or maybe in the way he said it. Literature seems like a relatively safe topic, one that naturally meanders into a chat about music.
She shifts a little in her chair once he drops his arm, but her knee doesn't move either. Instead, she gives him a guileless look as she extracts a third slice of pizza for herself.]
Wow, Kane, wouldn't have figured you for a quitter.
[It's a light, teasing comment. There's even a hint of mischief in her eyes as she takes a bite of the slice she knows is going to be her last. The beer has gone flat enough that she's not bothering to finish it. And it might just be her experience drinking at Josie's, but she never trusts asking for water when she's out somewhere.]
I meant what I said, by the way.
[The comment comes after a lull, a moment of comfortable silence. She's smiling a little as she looks over at him.]
Any time you need to crash. Or just feel like some company.
[ His corresponding puff of laughter comes hooked with a raise of his brows, an expression that communicates something just as light, a put-upon disbelief:
You are unbelievable, Karen Page.
Comfortable silence. Levi's gaze softens, then drops down to nothing in particular. It's hard to tell, whether he's thinking things over, or there's something implicit that means he can't quite look her in the eye. He reaches for the flat beer in his abandoned glass and runs his thumb over the base, as if he's ever intending to drink the dregs.
It'd be easy to say yes. I'd like that, I want to, how comfortable is that couch. To cross that desperate chasm of distance that Levi lives with. It, more than any other feeling in his life, is his most familiar ally.
He exhales. Long and low, and then hitches a shoulder up into a self-deprecating shrug. ]
I don't make a great houseguest.
[ For a myriad of reasons. Dreams. Nightmares. That disorienting second when he wakes up in the middle of the night, seeing ghosts that aren't there. ]
I could use a study buddy. [ Company, then. ] When the classes kick off. I could do with a refresh on how to make a good flashcard.
[That quiet laugh, and the look that follows, causes a smirk the curve her lips. There's a knowing look in her eyes as she shrugs. Yeah, she gets that a lot. Maybe not as often as someone tells her she's an unrelenting pain in the ass, but it's a close enough neighbor.
She lapses back into silence, watching as he clearly thinks things over, but not interrupting him. Letting him have that moment of quiet. There's something - almost familiar about it. Something that reminds her of her life in Vermont, after her mother died. There had been more anger associated with the unrelenting isolation that had plagued her, but the feeling of that yawning chasm is practically coming off of him in waves.
He'd tensed when she touched his arm before, so she doesn't try it again. But she does let her knee nudge against his, a companionable little bump. She smiles at the expected answer.]
Offer still stands. I'm a terrible host. My fridge is almost always empty.
[That and the fact that she keeps just the worst hours. If she could find a way to circumvent the need to sleep, she'd do it in a heartbeat. His suggestion of a study buddy is unexpected and sort of...oddly sweet. And definitely something she can do.
Still, she pretends for a moment to consider it.]
I mostly make really intricate conspiracy boards these days. [A beat.] Could be fun to remember how to get everything on a flashcard instead of a cork board.
[She offers her hand, so they can shake on it. She's pretty sure the pizza grease counts as sealing the deal.] You're on.
[ The bump at his knee pivots his attention — from where it rests, somewhere amorphous (it's a little hard to imagine, somehow, that Karen comes home to an empty fridge, staring at bare shelves with the fluorescent blaring in the middle of the night, not with the connections she has to have in her life, the loyalty she inspires in others like it's nothing), into the here and now.
Levi bumps his knee back. Not as forceful, not as firm. But it stays there solidly, resting against hers, on purpose. ]
Any F's I get, I'm blaming you.
[ His mouth crooks upwards. They both know he doesn't mean that.
She offers him her hand, so they can shake on it. So he does. A firm grip, warm; the broad span of his hand in hers.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's nights like this that she appreciates, the lulls in the storms she frequently gets herself caught in. On purpose. But it's these quiet moments, trying not to laugh at an absurd situation over a pizza, that keep her going when things really go sideways.]
Nope. I almost appreciate the ballsiness, though.
[And the fact that it's fairly respectful, as far as ways to being hit on goes.
When he gestures to the seat next to her, she arches a brow. One shoulder lifts in a shrug, head tipping to the side a bit as if to say, go ahead.
She watches him as he moves around the table, but only realizes what he's thinking when his arm settles easily around the back of her chair. Her knee stays where it is when his bumps against it, and her head turns in towards him, one hand covering her mouth. There's no keeping back the quiet chuckle that escapes.]
Oh, you're good.
[She shakes her head a little, looking amused as she pries one of the pepperoni off the top of her slice to pop it in her mouth. Karen's not the type of person to ask someone else to solve her problems. In fact, she'll just batter herself against them until she can shoulder her way through one way or another. Thus the fact that she was still up and working in the middle of the night. But she does appreciate it when someone else steps in to help. Especially in a subtle way like this.
He might notice that there's some tension in her shoulders, the kind that she carries day to day. Someone's that used talking her way out of a corner. But she relaxes a bit as he gets settled there, a sure sign that she's comfortable in his presence.]
no subject
Only occasionally.
[ So they eat. And they drink.
Up close like this, his eyes stay bright the whole time. His arm stays where it is, too, eating his slice folded in half with his free hand, because he isn't a native New Yorker but there are rules to this whole thing. Levi picks around subjects of conversation — nothing about Oregon or Vermont, but about her neighborhood, how Foggy — was that his name, Foggy? — is doing. What she might read for fun. How Levi's currently staying in previous employer-provided accomodation, and he's barely been there at all, but somehow, the lady from the laundromat across the street already fucking hates him. Maybe it's because he told her her machine was out of quarters, once. What does Karen think — is that enough for a personal vendetta?
He barely makes it through two beers. Finishes the first glass, and then nurses half of his second, all the way until it can't possibly be cold or nice to drink anymore. Levi drops his arm from contact sometime after he starts in on his second slice. His knee still stays where it is, and his attention still orbits hers for the whole time.
Eventually, Levi settles back in his chair. Balls up his napkin, throwing it onto his plate with a soft huff of laughter. ]
Alright. I don't say this often, but I admit defeat.
[ College kid's left them alone, at least. Fixated more on their phone now, obviously swiping through Tinder or Hinge or whatever latest app's supposed to speed up that whole process. Pretty polite, all things considered. ]
no subject
She shifts a little in her chair once he drops his arm, but her knee doesn't move either. Instead, she gives him a guileless look as she extracts a third slice of pizza for herself.]
Wow, Kane, wouldn't have figured you for a quitter.
[It's a light, teasing comment. There's even a hint of mischief in her eyes as she takes a bite of the slice she knows is going to be her last. The beer has gone flat enough that she's not bothering to finish it. And it might just be her experience drinking at Josie's, but she never trusts asking for water when she's out somewhere.]
I meant what I said, by the way.
[The comment comes after a lull, a moment of comfortable silence. She's smiling a little as she looks over at him.]
Any time you need to crash. Or just feel like some company.
no subject
You are unbelievable, Karen Page.
Comfortable silence. Levi's gaze softens, then drops down to nothing in particular. It's hard to tell, whether he's thinking things over, or there's something implicit that means he can't quite look her in the eye. He reaches for the flat beer in his abandoned glass and runs his thumb over the base, as if he's ever intending to drink the dregs.
It'd be easy to say yes. I'd like that, I want to, how comfortable is that couch. To cross that desperate chasm of distance that Levi lives with. It, more than any other feeling in his life, is his most familiar ally.
He exhales. Long and low, and then hitches a shoulder up into a self-deprecating shrug. ]
I don't make a great houseguest.
[ For a myriad of reasons. Dreams. Nightmares. That disorienting second when he wakes up in the middle of the night, seeing ghosts that aren't there. ]
I could use a study buddy. [ Company, then. ] When the classes kick off. I could do with a refresh on how to make a good flashcard.
no subject
She lapses back into silence, watching as he clearly thinks things over, but not interrupting him. Letting him have that moment of quiet. There's something - almost familiar about it. Something that reminds her of her life in Vermont, after her mother died. There had been more anger associated with the unrelenting isolation that had plagued her, but the feeling of that yawning chasm is practically coming off of him in waves.
He'd tensed when she touched his arm before, so she doesn't try it again. But she does let her knee nudge against his, a companionable little bump. She smiles at the expected answer.]
Offer still stands. I'm a terrible host. My fridge is almost always empty.
[That and the fact that she keeps just the worst hours. If she could find a way to circumvent the need to sleep, she'd do it in a heartbeat. His suggestion of a study buddy is unexpected and sort of...oddly sweet. And definitely something she can do.
Still, she pretends for a moment to consider it.]
I mostly make really intricate conspiracy boards these days. [A beat.] Could be fun to remember how to get everything on a flashcard instead of a cork board.
[She offers her hand, so they can shake on it. She's pretty sure the pizza grease counts as sealing the deal.] You're on.
no subject
Levi bumps his knee back. Not as forceful, not as firm. But it stays there solidly, resting against hers, on purpose. ]
Any F's I get, I'm blaming you.
[ His mouth crooks upwards. They both know he doesn't mean that.
She offers him her hand, so they can shake on it. So he does. A firm grip, warm; the broad span of his hand in hers.
And pizza grease. ]