Too late, Ford. Any offer at all, no matter how grudging, would still make that huge, hopeful grin spread over Stanley's face. "Nah it's, uh, I'll give the car a rest for a while. Man, my own room, huh? That'll be weird, not hearin' you above me, doin' your nerd thing."
As he says it, as he's hearing the words come out of his mouth, Stanley realizes how weird they are. It's been, what- almost ten years, technically. It feels like a lot longer. Does Ford even want to hear it? Does Ford even give a shit about reminiscing, or does he just want to get on with business? Whatever kind of business he's got now, crazy nerd drug business.
Should he ask more about that? Keep tryin' to do what they agreed he came here to do? Or would a reminder that Stan doesn't really believe Ford's story just tip Ford's decision to let Stan stay in the other direction?
It occurs to Stan, belatedly, that he did not actually think this far ahead.
"I mean, uh. Of course we wouldn't be bunking anymore, it's been, uh. A while. You look good. Or, uh."
He takes a look at Ford. Ford's clothes, and the hair which just during the course of their conversation has been raked into about ten different strange and indescribable patterns. Stanley himself isn't exactly a pile of roses, he knows that, but just, it's just - all of Ford right now. Basically all of him.
"You look different. Got kinda' buff, good for you, man." He reaches out to take a swing at Ford's arm, grinning reflexively. You grin when you do shit like that, you just do, and you don't think about how little you now know the kid who was your other half for years and years. He doesn't even know whether Ford wants to hear any of this.
it is a beautiful textwall, I enjoyed it
As he says it, as he's hearing the words come out of his mouth, Stanley realizes how weird they are. It's been, what- almost ten years, technically. It feels like a lot longer. Does Ford even want to hear it? Does Ford even give a shit about reminiscing, or does he just want to get on with business? Whatever kind of business he's got now, crazy nerd drug business.
Should he ask more about that? Keep tryin' to do what they agreed he came here to do? Or would a reminder that Stan doesn't really believe Ford's story just tip Ford's decision to let Stan stay in the other direction?
It occurs to Stan, belatedly, that he did not actually think this far ahead.
"I mean, uh. Of course we wouldn't be bunking anymore, it's been, uh. A while. You look good. Or, uh."
He takes a look at Ford. Ford's clothes, and the hair which just during the course of their conversation has been raked into about ten different strange and indescribable patterns. Stanley himself isn't exactly a pile of roses, he knows that, but just, it's just - all of Ford right now. Basically all of him.
"You look different. Got kinda' buff, good for you, man." He reaches out to take a swing at Ford's arm, grinning reflexively. You grin when you do shit like that, you just do, and you don't think about how little you now know the kid who was your other half for years and years. He doesn't even know whether Ford wants to hear any of this.