[It's been an hour, two hours, four, six-- hell, a day, York isn't even sure by this point. He's without his armor, without his weapons, without a clock in the room, without sunlight, without Delta above all else. There's nothing in this room to help him gauge what time it is or just how much time has passed, which is frustrating on so many levels that he can't even explain
( ... )
York's staring right back, hands clenched faintly. The food is there, though; he can smell it, see it, and his stomach rumbles ominously, but goddamnit, no, he wants to know what Maine wants first.]
He leans over the table, flattening his palms against the cool surface without taking his eyes off York. Instinct is telling him to grab York by the throat and shove his ass down into the chair, but that's not what he does. ]
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Maine watches him for a moment, silent, considering. YOU CAN EITHER SIT OF YOUR OWN VOLITION, OR HE'S GONNA MAKE YOU. ]
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York's staring right back, hands clenched faintly. The food is there, though; he can smell it, see it, and his stomach rumbles ominously, but goddamnit, no, he wants to know what Maine wants first.]
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He leans over the table, flattening his palms against the cool surface without taking his eyes off York. Instinct is telling him to grab York by the throat and shove his ass down into the chair, but that's not what he does. ]
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