He does. He goes back to his cabin, and back to a bad habit: he has a drink
before breakfast, and he smokes a cigarette that aggravates his lungs. This
is so stupid - he spent years not thinking about this. Who the hell
did he tell? Hosea and Dutch, and then, years later, Rains Fall. Just a few months ago, Tess. Why can't he just do the thing for the stupid egg?
The worst part is that he can still feel it, calling for him, whining for
his attention. He ignores it; it gets worse.
It's made immediately clear to Tess that the egg wants Arthur there whether he wants to be or not –– the little thing fusses most of the time, and the most she manages is an hour-long nap with the egg wrapped in a hoodie and tucked under one arm. When the whining kicks off again, she gives up and walks around the Barge with it. Back up to the deck, down to the lowest levels, back up top again. Shes almost there when she runs into Arthur, and she throws him a tight smile. She's a little annoyed at herself for letting him off easy. Annoyed at him, too. She hopes he's heard even half the fussing she has.
He grunts again, and holds out his hands for the egg.
"Didn't sleep. Got a headache to boot." And he's got an inkling it'll go away like magic once he's got the egg back in his hands. He also doesn't like that, doesn't like being manipulated, but she's made it clear they're not here to talk about it.
She passes it over still wrapped in her hoodie. She can smell the tobacco on him this close and is sorely tempted to bug him for one for herself too, but it can wait.
“Mmhmm. I’m clearly not enough for an egg,” she replies, dryly.
"Not even human babies are that needy." Hands liberated, she rakes her fingers through her hair to pull it back into a ponytail. "Or the more you resist, the more it wants you."
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He does. He goes back to his cabin, and back to a bad habit: he has a drink before breakfast, and he smokes a cigarette that aggravates his lungs. This is so stupid - he spent years not thinking about this. Who the hell did he tell? Hosea and Dutch, and then, years later, Rains Fall. Just a few months ago, Tess. Why can't he just do the thing for the stupid egg?
The worst part is that he can still feel it, calling for him, whining for his attention. He ignores it; it gets worse.
So, three hours later, he sets out to find Tess.
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"Sleep okay?"
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"Didn't sleep. Got a headache to boot." And he's got an inkling it'll go away like magic once he's got the egg back in his hands. He also doesn't like that, doesn't like being manipulated, but she's made it clear they're not here to talk about it.
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“Mmhmm. I’m clearly not enough for an egg,” she replies, dryly.
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"Don't get what it's making the fuss about. If it's got one of us, why's it matter?"
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"Maybe that's it. None too subtle."
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