[He hated seeing that look. Hated it and everything that it represented, everything he always strode to work against. Perhaps he had failed in that endeavor in some way, but there were always going to be certain details that were best left unsaid. They would make life more difficult and complicated than it needed to be which just brought trouble for everyone.
Cliff patted Fayt's shoulder with a grease stained hand, careful not to transfer the goo yet still make his point. They were fine. They were always fine.]
Day 5
Cliff patted Fayt's shoulder with a grease stained hand, careful not to transfer the goo yet still make his point. They were fine. They were always fine.]
When am I not?
[A small shake, for emphasis, before he let go.]
Don't worry about it, okay?