Okay, Curtis tried to tell himself. Not a big deal. Edgar's an adult; he had a curfew his whole damn life before Milliways took them in; Christ knows Curtis would want to run around, too, if he were in the same place.
(Except for how antsy Edgar got his fist night at the faintest suggestion he sleep in his own room. Or that they stay in separate cells after that fight with Tars.)
He worked out, but quit twenty minutes in so he could go take another loop through the bar. Then a second one outside. And another through the bar, then half a loop by the lake before the open space started getting to him, then a check-in with Bar (no, he hasn't been by, I'm sorry, Mr. Everett), and then just -- going back to their room and pacing around in there, hoping that wherever the fuck Edgar is, he'll drop by room 1001 at some point.
The pulse of his pendant shakes him out of it, but only briefly. Shit. He was supposed to meet Dejah. Okay, give it another fifteen minutes, just to make sure, then --
He's at the door an instant after she knocks, yanking it open before her voice registers.
"...Dejah." Curtis' face is drawn, his shoulders knotted. He's not disappointed to see her -- he could never be disappointed -- but fuck, it's not Edgar. "Shit. Hey."
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Okay, Curtis tried to tell himself. Not a big deal. Edgar's an adult; he had a curfew his whole damn life before Milliways took them in; Christ knows Curtis would want to run around, too, if he were in the same place.
(Except for how antsy Edgar got his fist night at the faintest suggestion he sleep in his own room. Or that they stay in separate cells after that fight with Tars.)
He worked out, but quit twenty minutes in so he could go take another loop through the bar. Then a second one outside. And another through the bar, then half a loop by the lake before the open space started getting to him, then a check-in with Bar (no, he hasn't been by, I'm sorry, Mr. Everett), and then just -- going back to their room and pacing around in there, hoping that wherever the fuck Edgar is, he'll drop by room 1001 at some point.
The pulse of his pendant shakes him out of it, but only briefly. Shit. He was supposed to meet Dejah. Okay, give it another fifteen minutes, just to make sure, then --
He's at the door an instant after she knocks, yanking it open before her voice registers.
"...Dejah." Curtis' face is drawn, his shoulders knotted. He's not disappointed to see her -- he could never be disappointed -- but fuck, it's not Edgar. "Shit. Hey."