The mug heats rapidly between her hands, until it's too uncomfortable to hold by its body. She shifts her grip to the handle, one hand cupping it from underneath so as not to strain her wrist. There's a twinge there, from a flat-palmed landing that should've been a shoulder roll. Nothing a night of Pewter won't fix. Neph looks up as Will aborts a question and a coughs to himself. Their eyes don't catch, but her split-second impression of his face, before he starts over, is of twisted confusion and abrasive shock. He doesn't give her a chance to register more than a flicker of alarm before he calls her out for stealing Hannibal's soaps.
Which. Okay. That looks weird. Neph can see how that looks weird. Or smells weird, whatever, but she'd just like to point out that this means he's been in sniffing distance of Hannibal's hair and, like, took metal notes. That fact snags her attention like a burr, working into a tangle she'll have to tease out later, its very presence distracting enough now that she's reduced to blinking at Will for several long seconds before saying, "Not, like, always. Mine's running low and I'm cheap."
A safe excuse, but one that kinda undermines what she was aiming to do for Hannibal. Neph traces her thumb over the rim of her mug and doesn't look at him, in case there's any hurt to be seen. If he's bothered to hear the gesture waved off as a minor theft, he doesn't show it, just fits himself against the counter between them to reach his own cup. It's Will who backs down, almost flinching away in his haste to get to the creamer.
Interesting. If she looks at this another way, there's a second snarl to pull apart - Will recognizes Hannibal's shampoo, but not her own day-to-day smell. Is that significant, or have the two boys just spent more time together in a climate controlled library?
"Having it plain means it tastes like coffee," Neph wrinkles her nose and reaches around Hannibal for the sugar container. She pops the seal with her thumb (they found out about the building's minor ant problem over the summer) and scoops three spoonfuls into her mug before lifting it to her mouth. Neph likes half and half sometimes, but sugar all the time, and Will's fussing around with the carton like he won't wanna give up the prop anytime soon. He stirs it into his coffee, spoon jangling against the ceramic as he shrugs off Hannibal's overbearing advice and--
--throws his name back in his teeth. His name
Neph spits her first too-hot mouthful of sweetened coffee back into her mug. Most of it, anyway. Some dribbles down her chin. She dashes it away, chest jerking with a suppressed cough. Did he just-? When did-? Why did-?!
"Hannibal!" she sputters, pure accusation, and if he didn't want her elbow in his ribcage he shouldn't've stood so close.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-02-08 04:25 pm (UTC)Which. Okay. That looks weird. Neph can see how that looks weird. Or smells weird, whatever, but she'd just like to point out that this means he's been in sniffing distance of Hannibal's hair and, like, took metal notes. That fact snags her attention like a burr, working into a tangle she'll have to tease out later, its very presence distracting enough now that she's reduced to blinking at Will for several long seconds before saying, "Not, like, always. Mine's running low and I'm cheap."
A safe excuse, but one that kinda undermines what she was aiming to do for Hannibal. Neph traces her thumb over the rim of her mug and doesn't look at him, in case there's any hurt to be seen. If he's bothered to hear the gesture waved off as a minor theft, he doesn't show it, just fits himself against the counter between them to reach his own cup. It's Will who backs down, almost flinching away in his haste to get to the creamer.
Interesting. If she looks at this another way, there's a second snarl to pull apart - Will recognizes Hannibal's shampoo, but not her own day-to-day smell. Is that significant, or have the two boys just spent more time together in a climate controlled library?
"Having it plain means it tastes like coffee," Neph wrinkles her nose and reaches around Hannibal for the sugar container. She pops the seal with her thumb (they found out about the building's minor ant problem over the summer) and scoops three spoonfuls into her mug before lifting it to her mouth. Neph likes half and half sometimes, but sugar all the time, and Will's fussing around with the carton like he won't wanna give up the prop anytime soon. He stirs it into his coffee, spoon jangling against the ceramic as he shrugs off Hannibal's overbearing advice and--
--throws his name back in his teeth. His name
Neph spits her first too-hot mouthful of sweetened coffee back into her mug. Most of it, anyway. Some dribbles down her chin. She dashes it away, chest jerking with a suppressed cough. Did he just-? When did-? Why did-?!
"Hannibal!" she sputters, pure accusation, and if he didn't want her elbow in his ribcage he shouldn't've stood so close.