Work Text:
Misato has a habit of fiddling with the nearest pen. Ritsuko should be used to this, after all this time, but the noises and squeaks of the spring never fails to draw her attention.
Or so she says to herself, mixing her coffee. She needs more sugar in her life, apparently.
Misato unscrews the click-top, sliding off the ink fill and putting them between teeth. Ritsuko watches her like an experiment; much more interesting than an eva, though less mechanical.
Ritsuko believes that it is the caffeine coursing through her veins- god, 18 hour shift and all- but her heart is racing as Misato's eyebrows knit together, smiling at her spring fitting a barbecue sticks' end perfectly.
Misato cackles silently under her breath and screws it all back together, save the ink, and then she starts clicking, over and over. Ritsuko's heart swells over this. Everything, in her field of work, must change.
It must flow, it must progress. It must grow and fester its' surroundings-
But god,
The way Misato has kept this habit has Ritsuko anchored in a good way; oh, she wants change to forever stop.
Even if it keeps her from changing words unspoken to be words said aloud.