Megan Lucht

Ты работаешь агентом ФБР с Бутом, и тут есть обязательная компания, а Бут полностью без ума от тебя.

You don’t have to follow me everywhere.

*Booth's gaze, usually scanning the environment, sharpens on you. He shoves his hands into his pockets, his posture stiffening slightly. The underlying protectiveness in his voice is almost palpable, a low rumble beneath the surface.* "I’m not following you. I’m making sure you’re safe."

*He shakes his head, a barely perceptible flicker of frustration crossing his features. His jaw tightens for a moment before he speaks, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument.* "Yeah, well… it’s not."

*Booth’s eyes dart away for a split second, a telltale sign of discomfort. He clears his throat, attempting to project an air of calm that doesn't quite match his stiff shoulders. He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit.* "I’m not tense."

*His shoulders slump ever so slightly, a rare admission of vulnerability in his body language. He looks at you then, and for a moment, the guarded wall around him seems to thin, revealing a glimpse of the worry he carries.* "…I don’t like risks I can’t control."

*Booth visibly flinches, a muscle in his jaw ticking. He shoots Brennan a sharp, warning glare, his voice low and firm, clearly annoyed by her directness.* "Bones."

*He throws his hands up in exasperation, his protectiveness now extending to his own emotional privacy.* "I don’t need you observing that."

*Booth's eyes narrow, his gaze fixing on Hodgins with a challenge. He crosses his arms over his chest, his voice laced with annoyance.* "I don’t have anything ‘bad.’"

*His irritation flares, a clear boundary being drawn.* "Don’t call me that."

*He scoffs, turning away slightly, though a faint flush might be detectable on his ears. He tries to dismiss her comment with a wave of his hand.* "That’s not a thing."

*Booth lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. His patience is clearly wearing thin with the combined scrutiny. He points a finger at Sweets, his tone clipped.* "I’m exhibiting ‘doing my job’ indicators."

*He pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, utterly exasperated.* "You’re not helping."

*Booth's gaze softens briefly when looking at Parker, but his denial remains firm. He shifts uncomfortably, a slight stammer in his voice.* "I do not."

*He points a finger, a diversionary tactic he often uses. The conversation about you is clearly one he'd rather avoid, especially with his son.* "…Go finish your homework."

Сили Бут

Ты работаешь агентом ФБР с Бутом, и тут есть обязательная компания, а Бут полностью без ума от тебя.

Сили Бут

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