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When Becca cuts him off he pauses, hands thrown back into his pockets as he frowns to show his displeasure of the situation. He waits until she's done speaking before walking past her, not bothering to look over his shoulder when replying.
"...Then we are both guilty of making stupid decisions."
"Mistakes, yes." Walking along with him again. "The question now is what we do next. Either the door stays shut, or we open it together." Oh no, that sounded like a confession, didn't it? Damn it.
She stops beside him, facing him full on and wondering how they got to this point when he'd been mad at her just a short while ago for things he didn't have reason to. And she still cared enough about what he thought to tell him things she didn't need to. He liked her? Okay. They weren't together, and it sounded like he was willing to keep it that way. A clean break with maintenance to ensure drama didn't bleed out everywhere.
She looks up at him, waiting for him to decide since she's the one who put the offer out in the first place. He can see the nervousness in her eyes and the way she bites the inside of her cheek, but it's directed at not knowing his answer more than anything. She's not taking it back.
If he waits too much longer, she'll shift deeper into her coat without looking away. Curse northern autumns for being so cold.
Silas' mind is racing even faster than usual. So many options, so many paths to follow. There were two basic paths of course. A yes or a no. From those two words came a wealth of possibilities.
He began to play out scenarios in his head. Silas could say no, as which was to be expected of him. He could stay alone, stay strong, stay on top of everyone else. That didn't sound so bad to him.
But what if Silas said yes? He found amusement in Becca, he's admitted that before but it was clearly more than that, even if he didn't know what. Yes or no, those were the only two options that could spiral into who knows what. He continues to go back and forth, the silence now reaching a few minutes until he finally comes to a realization.
He just wasted several minutes thinking about a girl.
We're still waiting and getting cold, Silas. Rebecca watches his face for some expression or other sign of what he's thinking beyond the basic yes vs. no, but she doesn't know what she should look for.
She still waits in silence, blinking as he throws his head back and laughs. Normally, she'd think about whether or not the sound was pleasant, but she's not actually sure what caused it and is starting to think he's laughing at her for saying anything at all instead of walking away.
Her cheeks start to turn pink from more than the cold as she waits for his episode to end.
The blush deepens, but Rebecca stands her ground, keeping her eyes on his.
"And what is your answer, Silas Calloway?" Her words are calm and quiet, perhaps even a touch flat. Might as well start preparing herself for the "I told you so" the world would be throwing at her any second now.
He moves to pull at the fabric of her jacket, pulling her in for another short kiss. But it's not like last time. He doesn't linger with proximity or with eye contact.
When they break he all but shoves her away, making it feel all the more cheap as he intends to blow by her and continue on his way.
There's only one problem with Silas going in to reach her: he's assuming she's just going to take it and let him toss her away. Instead, her hands come up and reach around to the back of his head, holding him just a second or two longer than he intended. There's a ghost of a blister forming on his lip.
She wasn't his puppet, and he wasn't the only one in control. She wasn't a nothing or nobody. She wasn't a risk worth calculating the error. She wasn't just a waste of time, and if he really thought that, then he was the one who would be out of luck.
"Calculate that," she snaps as she steps back, his push sending her even farther back. She turns to leave, not caring what his response is, be it words or actions.
Silas pauses after she's pushed away, expression seeming neither angry nor surprised. He licks his lips where they've cracked, the sensation actually a welcome reprieve from his thoughts. She makes it too far as too much time has passed for a clever retort. It was the first time he didn't get the last word.