[ . . . Well this is just mood whiplash. He grunts, and then trusting her to be sincere to him more than anything else in this moment, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to toss it aside onto a nearby desk so he couldn't possibly be distracted by it (not that he would be, but...) and then closed the door behind him with the back of his ankle. He keeps a confused, concerned look at her the whole time, and then shuffles off to the bed himself so as to sit next to her.
no subject
What. ]