Frank Bauer has been near mute this visit. "I wish you could be more honest with me." Stated even more quietly than normal, her murky green eyes focused on the basement floor before her. Her Chinese sits untouched on her lap. Her voice wasn't blank- instead tinged with an ache. For him- could, not would, for whatever reason.
There’s a moment where he just doesn’t breathe, when he just lets the smile die as easily as turning off a light.(he’s enough respect for her that he doesn’t try to deny his duplicity, or joke it away)“Frank–” What can he say? What can he possibly, possibly say; but the truth?
“I think…that if I could be more honest with you, you would not want to be here”
alone. with him. in a room with excellent soundproofing and one exit
And it kills him, every moment.