perdurance.
the trip to storage had taken its toll, that he couldn’t deny. certainly not for the first time, he had to pinch himself; they’re not real. why, then, did letting them go have him feel so damn raw? pushing his glasses a tad further up his nose, he’ll look down at the little photograph of charlie he carried constantly ——— only to tuck it quickly back away at the approach of familiar footsteps, inside his jacket, AGAINST HIS CHEST.
@pragmatisk // ♥
she wants to make sure it’s been done. it’s not to say that she doesn’t trust them, of course, it’s just that this is their fuck up and she doesn’t want to see it repeated. the last thing theresa needs is a host going haywire in the park-- even if they haven’t hurt the guests yet, there’s always the chance, and she isn’t going to let it happen on her watch.
she doesn’t expect to see him here, but-- here he is all the same. her tone could be gentler, perhaps, but he knows it isn’t personal.
‘ bernard. is it done? ’
