Oh, that's depressing: the collection of mirrors wasn't there the last (first) time he had entered Jeff's room. And there's still more floor visible than in his own den-- cords, amp, miscellaneous glass bottles and all. Tim feels that indescribable weight of total uncertainty. So he must be playing this game right. He shoots Jeff a mischievous, knowing, (anxious) smile and strolls on in.
Jeff has half a head on him in terms of height, but Tim's the one built for brawling. No matter what happens: he's convinced he had the advantage. The physical and strategic advantage.
It makes it easier for him to perch on the arm of that one ratty sofa, swing his backpack onto the seat and chirp, "Revenge is a dish best served cold." as he fishes out 2 chilled red bull cans. Tim tosses one to Jeff-- who looks and is acting sober and the obnoxious amount of caffeine is fair game-- and he explains. "Gas station was fresh outta sushi. Sorry. Hope I didn't catch you at a bad time?"
Tim will just have to acclimate to the relentless self-awareness, he guesses.
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Jeff has half a head on him in terms of height, but Tim's the one built for brawling. No matter what happens: he's convinced he had the advantage. The physical and strategic advantage.
It makes it easier for him to perch on the arm of that one ratty sofa, swing his backpack onto the seat and chirp, "Revenge is a dish best served cold." as he fishes out 2 chilled red bull cans. Tim tosses one to Jeff-- who looks and is acting sober and the obnoxious amount of caffeine is fair game-- and he explains. "Gas station was fresh outta sushi. Sorry. Hope I didn't catch you at a bad time?"
Tim will just have to acclimate to the relentless self-awareness, he guesses.