julian.
“And? So is the coffee. Alone. He ruined it.” The final interjection, judgement in place, no room left on his side, only a scathing look of curiosity wringing Tomas’ face dry. Eventually, the tsk of the mouth found its home in the darkness, eyes turning from him to see the candles growing in numbers, the show’s coordinator taking center stage to assure that all would go to plan. “How can you not know much? You’ve been here enough.” Another break from his eyes as he watched the curtain close to prepare for the first scene, only for the voice to return. “What are you going to say to him? Lady Macbeth.” Direct, not teasing, as it may have been from someone else’s lips. If anything, Julian held a certain hint of expectation, as if there was no doubt that the plan could be nonexistent. “You are here for something. Is that not it?”
"He didn't--" ruin it, Tomas wanted to defend, considering people far and wide all take in a good mocha, but something tells him Julian just wasn't really receptive to the opinions of people far and wide. And so he held back and discontinued the discourse. "English is.. hard, and it's in a strange, Shakespearean way, I don't- get some of it." Tomas quietly admitted, trying to sink lower than he possibly could, part of him still worried that when the writer spoke to him, it really was about his height blocking people. "What-?" The question seemed so out of the blue for his heart to skip a beat and for only a second panic settled in his eyes before looking away to the stage, "I'm not.. saying anything to him." He had nothing to say to him that would be important to the actor, why would he? There was huge divide between their worlds, something Tomas didn't want to overstep, "no-- I mean you wanted to come see it and.. I'm not here for anything. Other than a good show."













