[ he doesn't need to peer out from behind his hat to know it's her. anytime anyone steps inside, their identity is almost always given away to some extent in the manner in which they do, from the ring of the bell sounding the entrance to the speed in which the door opens signaling the familiarity of the person stepping in from the other side. with marta, there's routine in it now, two weeks in memorizing the pattern from the soft shuffle of her shoes on the wooden floorboards and the exhaled sigh in her breath like she's somehow relieved whenever she makes it past the door (likely from the way she's been regularly trying to dodge conversations in town that might urge her to utter a lie).
admittedly, there's an expectation in the regularity of it now, too, possibly the thing kovacs has come to dread the most. it's never a good idea to get used to anything, and yet, every day, he anticipates the parts of the morning that his business partner steps inside, because it's been made routine, because she's reliable, because she's always there when she says she will be.
(it's all temporary, he reminds himself. because getting used to anything is pointless for someone who knows anything stationary is only going to be picked apart the longer he's in this deal.)
what he doesn't expect is the words she opens up with, snagging at his hat with his fingertips to tip it backwards, revealing his eyes that appear to be as tired as they normally are from lack of sleep, while still remaining somehow attentive like he's just accustomed to working around the exhaustion over time. ]
How's the town reacting? No suspicions? [ he doesn't fully straighten in his seat, boot still propped up but he does shift himself to not be so slumped on the chair. he almost wants to ask who's arrived within the group, but he bites the question back. ]
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admittedly, there's an expectation in the regularity of it now, too, possibly the thing kovacs has come to dread the most. it's never a good idea to get used to anything, and yet, every day, he anticipates the parts of the morning that his business partner steps inside, because it's been made routine, because she's reliable, because she's always there when she says she will be.
(it's all temporary, he reminds himself. because getting used to anything is pointless for someone who knows anything stationary is only going to be picked apart the longer he's in this deal.)
what he doesn't expect is the words she opens up with, snagging at his hat with his fingertips to tip it backwards, revealing his eyes that appear to be as tired as they normally are from lack of sleep, while still remaining somehow attentive like he's just accustomed to working around the exhaustion over time. ]
How's the town reacting? No suspicions? [ he doesn't fully straighten in his seat, boot still propped up but he does shift himself to not be so slumped on the chair. he almost wants to ask who's arrived within the group, but he bites the question back. ]