She what? [ Luther flat-out splutters, completely thrown for a loop, his train of thought collapsing and derailing utterly. In his brief run-in with the legendary Bea, she had been flippant, a little coy, arching her eyebrows at Allison whenever the man's back was turned. He'd noticed her being — in a word — weird, but had just as quickly discarded her from his mental landscape the moment she was out of his line of sight. He hadn't even noticed her. Had been polite and genteel and entirely, wholly uninterested (which to some people accustomed to turning heads, just sparks that challenge even brighter).
His balance wavers a little, and he lets his weight slide down against the wall until he's sitting on the floor of the hallway. One long knee drawn up, the other leg still sprawled out with his boot now resting against the opposite wall, his pose inadvertently mirroring Allison on the opposite side of the country, without even knowing. ]
That's not. I mean, she seemed very nice. But I'm not.... that's not even.
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His balance wavers a little, and he lets his weight slide down against the wall until he's sitting on the floor of the hallway. One long knee drawn up, the other leg still sprawled out with his boot now resting against the opposite wall, his pose inadvertently mirroring Allison on the opposite side of the country, without even knowing. ]
That's not. I mean, she seemed very nice. But I'm not.... that's not even.
[ He is not making very coherent sentences. ]