The tone shift was oh so subtle but unmistakable. The line drawn that Loki knew better than to step over without the space and time to have that fight. It sent a primal kind of thrill through him, straight to his dick for reasons that had nothing to do with self-preservation, and the admonishment was taken with no change in his otherwise neutral expression. He knew this dance, these steps. The familiar crackle of energy in the room around them. He didn't like it, but he could work in it and fight in it and he wasn't close to the type to back down.
Did Paul have any idea what the people he was driving around last night were into? What he was validating and enabling for - for what? For money? Not for fame; he would have had that in the stunt circles of LA. Gotten an award or something. Something.
The type to not back down didn't always mean open opposition. He picks his battles, yes, but Loki didn't let things go that was stuck in his craw. Another internal war, a fleeting wish that he'd gone straight to work with the whiplash guilt of possibly depriving himself of sitting across from his- He wouldn't think about what they were right now. He couldn't.
It's doing a shit job at it's purpose- He takes that stabbed bite of his eggs, deferring with a look down and another rapid pinch of his face and pops it in his mouth. He and Paul hadn't fought often - that wasn't to say they didn't fight. Fists had been swung, shit had been said. Paul had his moments, Loki too, and they gave as good as they got. Even if it almost visibly destroyed them during it.
no subject
Did Paul have any idea what the people he was driving around last night were into? What he was validating and enabling for - for what? For money? Not for fame; he would have had that in the stunt circles of LA. Gotten an award or something. Something.
The type to not back down didn't always mean open opposition. He picks his battles, yes, but Loki didn't let things go that was stuck in his craw. Another internal war, a fleeting wish that he'd gone straight to work with the whiplash guilt of possibly depriving himself of sitting across from his- He wouldn't think about what they were right now. He couldn't.
It's doing a shit job at it's purpose- He takes that stabbed bite of his eggs, deferring with a look down and another rapid pinch of his face and pops it in his mouth. He and Paul hadn't fought often - that wasn't to say they didn't fight. Fists had been swung, shit had been said. Paul had his moments, Loki too, and they gave as good as they got. Even if it almost visibly destroyed them during it.
"You need a better job."