[There's a strange, "secure" effect to Harper's company, in person or otherwise, that's for certain. Anthony's doubts over going had dropped, bowed, bent, and resigned to Harper's urging.
The near-guarantee of a bit of normal being out, a bit of normalcy with a fellow Numbered with lack of any acted-on disapproval wasn't quite the only reason he'd gone with it. But around her, anything he got wouldn't be anything he didn't and, implicitly, wouldn't miss anything he did have coming.
In the meanwhile, he's endeavoring to watch himself.
He turns his face toward her voice and husks out a "What -- ...?" for a moment, quickly clamps that and slams it down that will not do, pins down exactly what she means.]
...Oh -- that -- that-that - day at the -
[Obviously she knows what day she's talking about; that'll not do... Shakes his head, mutters a "Sorry".]
-- I, erm.
[He thinks. With some difficulty - he hadn't even finished shopping that day as he hadn't had a plan; could barely remember details on those notes of the day after that; that was when he'd gone to Angeline's.
He quits. Sinks into shamefaced, "smile", with a wheezy something-or-other between a single laugh and a sigh to pair off with it.]
...I don't --
[Shakes his head. As he says the next there's a small, oily sinking down below his ribs.]
I -- can't remember; wish I could. -- S - sorry.
Uhmm.
[Does he really have any right to ask the question back when he couldn't answer it - it starts anyway. Piping up quietly and thinning.] What -- what were you -- ...?
[Little slip to a crack there.]
...Doing -- there, if uhm...?
["If you remember. There's a smart-alecky answer to that and he's faintly knocking himself for it, but...]
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The near-guarantee of a bit of normal being out, a bit of normalcy with a fellow Numbered with lack of any acted-on disapproval wasn't quite the only reason he'd gone with it. But around her, anything he got wouldn't be anything he didn't and, implicitly, wouldn't miss anything he did have coming.
In the meanwhile, he's endeavoring to watch himself.
He turns his face toward her voice and husks out a "What -- ...?" for a moment, quickly clamps that and slams it down that will not do, pins down exactly what she means.]
...Oh -- that -- that-that - day at the -
[Obviously she knows what day she's talking about; that'll not do... Shakes his head, mutters a "Sorry".]
-- I, erm.
[He thinks. With some difficulty - he hadn't even finished shopping that day as he hadn't had a plan; could barely remember details on those notes of the day after that; that was when he'd gone to Angeline's.
He quits. Sinks into shamefaced, "smile", with a wheezy something-or-other between a single laugh and a sigh to pair off with it.]
...I don't --
[Shakes his head. As he says the next there's a small, oily sinking down below his ribs.]
I -- can't remember; wish I could. -- S - sorry.
Uhmm.
[Does he really have any right to ask the question back when he couldn't answer it - it starts anyway. Piping up quietly and thinning.] What -- what were you -- ...?
[Little slip to a crack there.]
...Doing -- there, if uhm...?
["If you remember. There's a smart-alecky answer to that and he's faintly knocking himself for it, but...]