[Slevin's frustration, his confusion, they frighten even Cassel. He sees in this man the muscle underneath the skin of the man he knows much better - or the man he would like to know better, anyway. Here is a wretched, affection-starved thing, a determined urchin, a violent criminal, a bad dog.]
[Cassel wants to take him in his arms and hold him tight, tell him all the bad things will go away. But they never will, and anyway, they don't speak the language of words. Not really. Not well.]
[He follows Slevin into the building, quiet as a mouse and staying just a few paces behind him.]
Thank you, [he says in the dingy quiet, though there's a hint of regret trembling in his chest, too. He can taste dust in his mouth, and swallows it down.]
[He taps Slevin on the shoulder, so careful, to get his attention.]
Spam
[Cassel wants to take him in his arms and hold him tight, tell him all the bad things will go away. But they never will, and anyway, they don't speak the language of words. Not really. Not well.]
[He follows Slevin into the building, quiet as a mouse and staying just a few paces behind him.]
Thank you, [he says in the dingy quiet, though there's a hint of regret trembling in his chest, too. He can taste dust in his mouth, and swallows it down.]
[He taps Slevin on the shoulder, so careful, to get his attention.]