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[The funny thing — not that it's funny, since it's actually incredibly stupid and reckless — is that he realized the same thing as soon as she started yelling and made a conscious decision to let whatever was about to play out where it did, how it did.

If he drew her attention to all the possibilities of discovery, she might have held back.

He glances down for a second, bites his lip again, then looks back up. He's a little afraid of what the answer might be, but he has to know.]

Do you believe that I'm sorry for what I did?

[The question makes her wince, eyes squeezed shut for a second as she tries not to start shouting at him all over again. She doesn't want to, she's tired but he just had to go and ask, instead of giving her time to work that out by herself.

She drags a hand over her face, before managing to look back at him.]

I dont know, Saul. That's kind of the problem here. [If she could believe that, she might be able to forgive him.] I want to believe you, and maybe I can eventually, but right now...

[She holds up a hand, the gesture a silent I don't know, her expression rueful.]

[That's okay, too. He gets it. It's not like he's offended or anything, except for the part where he looks hurt and can't seem to meet her gaze anymore.

Logically, he knows something like this is going to take time.

But when's the last time he favored logic over emotion? That's what he really hates about this place: what it's done to him.]

Okay.

[He leans forward and tilts his forehead down to meet hers and just stands there for a few seconds like that, eyes briefly slipping shut. One squeeze of her hand later, and then he's half a foot out of her bubble of personal space, then one foot, then two feet, backing up toward 509's door.]

I'll see you around, Steph.

[It's not fair that he gets to look upset, that she has to feel guilty about hurting him, when he's the one who did all those terrible things. Even if he's sorry, she hates that he can still look hurt and all she wants to do is apologize.

But she doesn't, she bites her tongue on it and just exhales shakily when he rests his head against hers. Are they ever gonna stop repeating these patterns?

They would if she can't forgive him, if she never speaks to him again after this, but the thought of that hurts almost as much as everything they've said to each other in the last few -- God, she doesn't even know how long it's been, and it doesn't really matter. She just knows she doesn't want to hate him forever.

For a moment, it's almost like she's not going to let go of his hand, but then her grip loosens and she leans back against the wall again, nodding and not meeting his gaze.]

Goodbye, Saul.

[It feels more final than I'll see you around, but it's the only words she can find.

She should walk away, but she waits for him to leave, first, before heading back down to 104.]

[As a rule, he never uses that word. It's too final, and hearing her say it is enough to stop him in his tracks.

But she didn't mean it that way, right? She couldn't have. She can't.

He needs to stop looking at her and he needs to get out of there pronto, so as soon as the moment passes and he feels the ground under his feet again, he turns quickly on his heel and very nearly shoulders his way back into his apartment.

The door clicks shut so quietly, it's barely audible.]

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