[After she disappeared - the other Elizabeth - Booker didn't react so poorly as he did when she been taken the first time. Maybe it was how quietly she had slipped away, or maybe it was the note and the thick envelope he didn't dare open that gave him a little peace of mind.
He still was in danger of worrying holes into the carpet he paced over, but he didn't drink. Not much at least.
Booker had a lot of thinking to do - with the knowledge that he needed to tell Elizabeth everything. It wasn't as if he hadn't known he should do it before, it was only that now he knew that he needed to do it.
But how? And when? It was just another secret piled onto many other he needed to tell and he wondered if it would do more harm than good.
When she returns, Booker hangs back - lets the 'twins' fuss over her and welcome her back before he even approaches her. He stares at the letter she left...the other version...and wonders if maybe he should just slip it under her door and wait.
It stinks of cowardliness though, in such a way that Booker picks a random book from a shelf and hides it inside the middle before stuffing it in a drawer in the desk he had in his room.
There isn't much time between that and a knock on her door with a cup of poorly made hot chocolate. He could make better coffee but he didn't think she'd want any of that.]
wowza i'm just on fire with these late replies.
He still was in danger of worrying holes into the carpet he paced over, but he didn't drink. Not much at least.
Booker had a lot of thinking to do - with the knowledge that he needed to tell Elizabeth everything. It wasn't as if he hadn't known he should do it before, it was only that now he knew that he needed to do it.
But how? And when? It was just another secret piled onto many other he needed to tell and he wondered if it would do more harm than good.
When she returns, Booker hangs back - lets the 'twins' fuss over her and welcome her back before he even approaches her. He stares at the letter she left...the other version...and wonders if maybe he should just slip it under her door and wait.
It stinks of cowardliness though, in such a way that Booker picks a random book from a shelf and hides it inside the middle before stuffing it in a drawer in the desk he had in his room.
There isn't much time between that and a knock on her door with a cup of poorly made hot chocolate. He could make better coffee but he didn't think she'd want any of that.]