[Steven would think it's obvious what the 'something' is that distresses him. It's murder, no matter how one slices it. He tries to share his 'prey' with Quentin, so at least the amount of death is halved to some degree, but death is death.
He sees the waitress approach from the corner of his eye (and from behind the shroud of curly hair half-covering the eye on his temple), but the question jars him a little as well. There's a few seconds of pause before he turns his attention to the waitress entirely, telling her "Coffee- the usual, please. Thanks so much" and allowing her to quickly go on her way. Once she's striding away again, he folds his hands on the table's surface, shoulders hunching.]
It's... about once a month, usually. Or a bit more often. Once every four weeks...? Feels like that's enough.
no subject
He sees the waitress approach from the corner of his eye (and from behind the shroud of curly hair half-covering the eye on his temple), but the question jars him a little as well. There's a few seconds of pause before he turns his attention to the waitress entirely, telling her "Coffee- the usual, please. Thanks so much" and allowing her to quickly go on her way. Once she's striding away again, he folds his hands on the table's surface, shoulders hunching.]
It's... about once a month, usually. Or a bit more often. Once every four weeks...? Feels like that's enough.