"What?"
After a few seconds, browsing dinner options has devolved into aimless thumbswiping and staring holes into the phone at intervals. The screen is as good a place as any to concentrate his frustration at the fact that somehow, with Jude in the room, Courtland has been reinstated into a starring role after being somewhat successfully relegated to the background of Near's life for a few years.
Jude's question yanks him away from the activity like a choke-chained dog. The tone is wrong. Not snide enough, should be Did you want to come?? Instead, a jarring wrong note in an otherwise flawless snipe symphony. He looks up and stares holes into Jude instead.
"Fuck off." This is filler, not expletive. It is tired, empty, accompanied by a shake of his head -- the least contentious thing he's said for a while, despite the words that frame it in. He waves the phone in the air, temporary white flag.
"Here, order whatever you want."
After a few seconds, browsing dinner options has devolved into aimless thumbswiping and staring holes into the phone at intervals. The screen is as good a place as any to concentrate his frustration at the fact that somehow, with Jude in the room, Courtland has been reinstated into a starring role after being somewhat successfully relegated to the background of Near's life for a few years.
Jude's question yanks him away from the activity like a choke-chained dog. The tone is wrong. Not snide enough, should be Did you want to come?? Instead, a jarring wrong note in an otherwise flawless snipe symphony. He looks up and stares holes into Jude instead.
"Fuck off." This is filler, not expletive. It is tired, empty, accompanied by a shake of his head -- the least contentious thing he's said for a while, despite the words that frame it in. He waves the phone in the air, temporary white flag.
"Here, order whatever you want."