"Hammers." It was his way of agreeing, scrambling back up to his feet as he said it, swiping the dirt from the seat of his pants. Ever'd just pause to grab his cigarette off the table and then step out into the hall -- pausing for a moment, there, to blink back at her.
"Let me just grab my stuff." He wanted to put on his coat, white layered mess that it was, and toss the rest of his belonging somewhere no one would take them. Old instincts, at it didn't seem like this place had locks anyway. He had nothing worth stealing, but --
He'd step back out with his coat on, cigarettes in his pocket, his own room sterile and impersonal, to blink at her. "We can go for a walk."
