[Insults that would sting more if he hadn’t heard them all before. Skin a little thicker, shielded by agitation nettled just under the surface. A stare met with a stare, Connor’s own an easy thing to fall into, the annoying placidity of an android basically a default state to comfortably rely upon.
And yet despite everything, Connor still takes no pleasure in watching Hank stumble down the hall. Highly unlikely he’ll even know which door is the correct one; and so those dreaded footsteps do come. They’re steady and fast-tempoed and they meet him at his side, then pull forward to the right door.
Connor swings it open, like some kind of highly displeased chamberlain.]
no subject
And yet despite everything, Connor still takes no pleasure in watching Hank stumble down the hall. Highly unlikely he’ll even know which door is the correct one; and so those dreaded footsteps do come. They’re steady and fast-tempoed and they meet him at his side, then pull forward to the right door.
Connor swings it open, like some kind of highly displeased chamberlain.]
It’s this one.