[and here all he wanted to know was if he could do the equivalent of chaining himself to one spot while he slept. William ticks through options and - other than a brief glance away at the first mention of Cassandra - the longer it goes on the more solemn and worried his expression gets.

A beat, and it'd normally be more of a minute than a beat while he turns things over, but if he stays silent for too long William will probably never stop talking. (Does Heather just talk over him? He doesn't get it.)]

So.

[Another beat, like if he interrupts the silence at the right intervals it'll give him a few more blessed quiet seconds to think. And then he just decides, fuck it, and leaves the feed running while he rolls out of view, no explanation given. It's not that hard to figure out though - there's a snick in the background and when he returns it's with a cigarette in hand.]

Don't know about reading my intent. Or. Might be a waste of time. [Smoke.] Mostly a pain in the ass. Didn't seem dangerous. I didn't, I mean. She said it was creepy and then okay when she took me back to bed.