Foster squints, trying to organise his thoughts into words; the fallacy there is so big and his vocabulary for conveying it seems really insufficient suddenly. He reaches up with one hand and moves as though to run one hand back through his hair, but stops and instead grabs a loose handful of what would be bangs if he ever let them fall forward. And just... holds it. He holds a handful of his own hair, pulling it at the roots just slightly.
"Why... if you can get down yourself... why don't you get down yourself? Why are you waiting?"
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Foster squints, trying to organise his thoughts into words; the fallacy there is so big and his vocabulary for conveying it seems really insufficient suddenly. He reaches up with one hand and moves as though to run one hand back through his hair, but stops and instead grabs a loose handful of what would be bangs if he ever let them fall forward. And just... holds it. He holds a handful of his own hair, pulling it at the roots just slightly.
"Why... if you can get down yourself... why don't you get down yourself? Why are you waiting?"
Is he missing... something????