Foreman tried to hide his flinch when, instead of silence or acceptance, his appreciation got shoved right back where it came from. He was shocked at his own thought--I don't want to go alone. Usually it was exactly what he wanted, so what had changed? He'd spent his weekends and his days off alone for years; even when he'd been dating Wendy they didn't spend entire days together. Dinners, breakfasts, sure, but then they both had their own errands to accomplish. Foreman had always been more than fine with that. Why the hell was he making these confessions to Amber, and then hoping she'd stay with him, as if he needed his hand held because he'd had painful things happen in his life? He was better than that. He didn't need that.
He kept his eyes diverted from Amber. She was putting words in his mouth. He'd said he was glad she was coming, and she'd twisted that around somehow. The same was true the other way around, he couldn't force her to come, and yet she was still walking towards the car as if she expected to. There was so much contradictory information that Foreman shut down further, only getting through the bare mechanical efforts of tossing his bag into the car's backseat and walking around to the driver's side.
Foreman climbed into the car, making no move to open the passenger door this time. He'd probably get his head bitten off for that too. The seats were starting to warm up and the frost was clearing from the windshield under the blast of the fans. He waited for the click of Amber's door handle, not reaching for the ignition or the steering wheel, and still staring pointlessly ahead of himself. "I'm not very good company right now," he said, and his voice sounded petulant even in his own ears--petulant and obvious, since it wasn't like he'd hidden it very well. "I want the game to be fun. So I'm telling you." Foreman pressed his lips together, still not glancing across the car. Had he ever really told anyone what he needed? "I want to work it out. As much as I can, before we play." His eyes flicked over, briefly. "You don't have to come. I don't know why you're putting up with me." The last part came with an incredulous head-shake; he really didn't know, and once again he expected Amber to get out of his car once she realized it too.
no subject
He kept his eyes diverted from Amber. She was putting words in his mouth. He'd said he was glad she was coming, and she'd twisted that around somehow. The same was true the other way around, he couldn't force her to come, and yet she was still walking towards the car as if she expected to. There was so much contradictory information that Foreman shut down further, only getting through the bare mechanical efforts of tossing his bag into the car's backseat and walking around to the driver's side.
Foreman climbed into the car, making no move to open the passenger door this time. He'd probably get his head bitten off for that too. The seats were starting to warm up and the frost was clearing from the windshield under the blast of the fans. He waited for the click of Amber's door handle, not reaching for the ignition or the steering wheel, and still staring pointlessly ahead of himself. "I'm not very good company right now," he said, and his voice sounded petulant even in his own ears--petulant and obvious, since it wasn't like he'd hidden it very well. "I want the game to be fun. So I'm telling you." Foreman pressed his lips together, still not glancing across the car. Had he ever really told anyone what he needed? "I want to work it out. As much as I can, before we play." His eyes flicked over, briefly. "You don't have to come. I don't know why you're putting up with me." The last part came with an incredulous head-shake; he really didn't know, and once again he expected Amber to get out of his car once she realized it too.