[Perhaps she could hear him cringing in his silence, laden with electric tension drawing his face and causing him to shrink somewhat where he stood in the hallway. What do you want from me? he wanted to ask, not knowing how to speak or respond when it seemed no matter what he chose, it would be the wrong choice. He had thought he was being diplomatic in his choice, but now her voice burns in his ear as she throws his half-hearted response back into his face.
It would have been the quintessential example for "bad timing" for both of them if it weren't always "bad timing" for Keisuke. The issue at the heart of this matter was a live-wire topic for him which sat as painful as an exposed nerve, constantly being set off by the smallest thing, sometimes things that surprised him even.
But—this. Her questions were brutal, worse than a guy who'd held a knife to his throat and threatened him for his tags, nearly as bad as Akira staring him dead in the eye and telling him that he hated him hanging around.
One shoulder leaned into the wall as he closed in around where he held the phone to his ear; he didn't even seem to have the spine to hang up, too afraid of how she would face him about that later.] Don't - [he mutters, stressed tone apparent,] make me answer that...
[Perhaps he should've noticed the rustling of movement around her silence. He might've had the idea to start going somewhere out of the way. As it was, he's a big, obvious idiot, standing in the hallway outside their classroom.]
rip...
It would have been the quintessential example for "bad timing" for both of them if it weren't always "bad timing" for Keisuke. The issue at the heart of this matter was a live-wire topic for him which sat as painful as an exposed nerve, constantly being set off by the smallest thing, sometimes things that surprised him even.
But—this. Her questions were brutal, worse than a guy who'd held a knife to his throat and threatened him for his tags, nearly as bad as Akira staring him dead in the eye and telling him that he hated him hanging around.
One shoulder leaned into the wall as he closed in around where he held the phone to his ear; he didn't even seem to have the spine to hang up, too afraid of how she would face him about that later.] Don't - [he mutters, stressed tone apparent,] make me answer that...
[Perhaps he should've noticed the rustling of movement around her silence. He might've had the idea to start going somewhere out of the way. As it was, he's a big, obvious idiot, standing in the hallway outside their classroom.]