Martin's question makes John's gut lurch, and he looks between the two of them for a moment, brow furrowed. Logically, he knows it might not matter if Mr. Keane stays or goes; the woman at reception might help them just as easily. But Mr. Keane has been kind, and honest (as far as John can tell), and the thought of him just walking out now is more unsettling than it ought to be.
So he lets out a little breath when Mr. Keane says he isn't going anywhere, and points them toward the storage room. "Okay," he agrees. He's worn secondhand clothes before, but his grandmother had always bought them at a shop. The idea of just rummaging through a box is a little uncomfortable, like he's taking charity that ought to be going to someone who needs it.
Except that he does need it. He can't keep wearing what he has.
John frowns, and it's both lingering curiosity and want for a distraction that compels him to speak as he follows Mr. Keane to the storage room. "Why does Darrow take people?" he asks. In books, there's usually a reason, like an enemy that needs to be beaten. "Are we supposed to do something here?"
no subject
So he lets out a little breath when Mr. Keane says he isn't going anywhere, and points them toward the storage room. "Okay," he agrees. He's worn secondhand clothes before, but his grandmother had always bought them at a shop. The idea of just rummaging through a box is a little uncomfortable, like he's taking charity that ought to be going to someone who needs it.
Except that he does need it. He can't keep wearing what he has.
John frowns, and it's both lingering curiosity and want for a distraction that compels him to speak as he follows Mr. Keane to the storage room. "Why does Darrow take people?" he asks. In books, there's usually a reason, like an enemy that needs to be beaten. "Are we supposed to do something here?"