Paul turns his head to watch John cough. His fingers curl slightly on his knees, some other gesture suppressed and redirected.
"I would have." The agreement comes naturally. He leans forward and sinks the fingertips of one hand into the sand up to the first knuckle, then pulls them back. They're above the waterline. Nothing rushes in to fill the holes. He rubs the grit between the pads of his fingers as he settles back on his heels.
"Atomics," he says, seeing John out of the corner of his eye, "I can't imagine what you thought, looking at me."
Another ruined beach full of poisoned corpses and an infant star burning like ghostfire. The cosmic irony of it washes over Paul like the waters over the dead here, and he lets his eyes half-lid as it does.
The second gesture is not suppressed. He extends his hand like a man reaching out to a wounded animal, slowly and steadily, to reach for John's heavy, sunken shoulder.
no subject
"I would have." The agreement comes naturally. He leans forward and sinks the fingertips of one hand into the sand up to the first knuckle, then pulls them back. They're above the waterline. Nothing rushes in to fill the holes. He rubs the grit between the pads of his fingers as he settles back on his heels.
"Atomics," he says, seeing John out of the corner of his eye, "I can't imagine what you thought, looking at me."
Another ruined beach full of poisoned corpses and an infant star burning like ghostfire. The cosmic irony of it washes over Paul like the waters over the dead here, and he lets his eyes half-lid as it does.
The second gesture is not suppressed. He extends his hand like a man reaching out to a wounded animal, slowly and steadily, to reach for John's heavy, sunken shoulder.
"Or perhaps I can."