[ He's relieved when she stops – though a little less so, once he realizes he has to explain himself.
He's quiet for a few heartbeats, clearly trying to gather his thoughts, before he nods towards their seats again, plopping himself back down in the chair he had claimed. He scrubs at his face, silent for a few breaths more, before he finally comes out and says it: ]
This is fucked up for you.
[ No shit, Sherlock. ]
I mean, I can't claim to know exactly what it's like? But it's— I know that it can't be easy, at least. It's like getting dropped into the middle of a play, and everyone expects you to know all your lines and cues, right?
no subject
He's quiet for a few heartbeats, clearly trying to gather his thoughts, before he nods towards their seats again, plopping himself back down in the chair he had claimed. He scrubs at his face, silent for a few breaths more, before he finally comes out and says it: ]
This is fucked up for you.
[ No shit, Sherlock. ]
I mean, I can't claim to know exactly what it's like? But it's— I know that it can't be easy, at least. It's like getting dropped into the middle of a play, and everyone expects you to know all your lines and cues, right?