“Alright,” he says, not sure if he should be relieved or disappointed. He doesn’t have much time to ponder — a man abruptly shoves by them, and Clive steps towards Jill to both avoid him and protect her, his free hand drifting to the small of her back.
Years of simply being side by side in any number of scenarios has her instinctively stepping into him, coffee held so that she doesn't tip it on anyone.
"Pardon you," Jill mumbles at the man's back as he leaves the shop, too tired to make a fuss. And too tired to immediately realize Clive's hand is warm on her back, even though her clothing, and she blinks up at him before stepping away.
Maybe they just don't draw attention to that. That would be the merciful thing to do.
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She can feel the simmering tension in her bones. There's little they can speak about without making her mood divebomb. She can't see that changing.
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"Pardon you," Jill mumbles at the man's back as he leaves the shop, too tired to make a fuss. And too tired to immediately realize Clive's hand is warm on her back, even though her clothing, and she blinks up at him before stepping away.
Maybe they just don't draw attention to that. That would be the merciful thing to do.
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“People not looking where they’re going,” he says. “Well. I won’t keep you.”