Yeah, 'course. [A beat, and he fidgets a little, uncertainly.] Um, right, the beer's over there—[he points toward the couch and the coffee table]
Sorry it's not too cold, or anything.
[He knows he's stalling, and he shouldn't, but he doesn't know how or where to start, and part of him still wishes there would come a moment where Keith would look at him oddly, unsure why he's here because he's forgotten the numbers and the network and he wouldn't have to explain the corruption.]
no subject
Sorry it's not too cold, or anything.
[He knows he's stalling, and he shouldn't, but he doesn't know how or where to start, and part of him still wishes there would come a moment where Keith would look at him oddly, unsure why he's here because he's forgotten the numbers and the network and he wouldn't have to explain the corruption.]