Coiled – like a spring ready to be released. Shiro was staring down Jesse, and despite the look of things, and the complete readiness to wing himself at the bigger man, there was some amusement in his eyes.
‘You know I will, Agent McCree. Commander Reyes said no interruptions, and I don’t care how many hoagies you have in that bag, I’m not letting you past that threshold.’
He snorted at the audacity of the younger, peering down at him from the straight line of his strong nose. They matched at a similar height, though perhaps the operative was just shy of that reaching that ridiculous hairstyle. Regardless, Jesse was considerably bulkier than Shiro and he smirked knowingly with eyes trained on those dark eyes.
Faintly, through the thick plastered walls, Jesse’s ears pricked to the sound of Gabriel conversing with an undetermined party. He supposed it was a conference call that was keeping him, which would explain the guard-dog posted outside his door.
A sharp pang of disappoint struck Jesse, thought not gunslinger would readily admit it. He had been looking forward to their lunch - appointments like these had become few and far between these days, though his Commander had promised him today, regardless of what kept him. It seemed that some things were beyond his control and Jesse understood. It didn’t make the unpleasant sensation coiled in his chest disperse any faster, however.
Shiro remained steadfast, eyeballing him from across the hall and Jesse’s grip tightened on the bags as he swung them over one shoulder, tapping two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute to the fellow agent. ‘Aight, well. Let him know that I came ‘round, yeah?’ He paused, gesturing to the bags with his chin. ‘Unless ya fancy havin’ one o’ these? They’ll go bad by the time he’s finished.’