She is committed; she must stay to the logical end.She is committed; she must stay to the logical end. Amused, he looks away from the clock above the vending machines, and settles back into his chair. He passes on this hand, waiting for his partner to call, and idly shuffles the cards between his fingers. She is late, he muses, and I have been more than patient. Playing out the rest of the hand is done with only a small part of his attention. Half an eye is kept on the clock; half an ear on the hallway outside. Most of his attention, however, is several floors above. A mysterious smile passes over his face, and he trumps the cards currently on the table, much to the dismay of his opponents; but then again, surprise has always been one of his better weapons. The smile widens as he picks up the sound of someone running in the hallway outside the Math Lounge, and , sure enough, she appears. A moment is necessary to savour her: her face has been rouged by the cold, and the wind has seen fit to re-dress her hair, which now sweeps wildly around her face. She stops immediately inside the doors to the lounge, desperately trying to catch her breath and push the frightened, hunted look from her eyes, which find him before they can change the expression. |