[Sophie taps you on the shoulder, sketchpad in one hand and a small object to be determined in the other. She's smiling slightly in an attempt to put the stranger at ease.]
[Half-turns, assesses who he's dealing with. Turns fully, mildly surprised. He doesn't usually drop things.]
Oh. ...thanks.
[His keys. That would've been awkward. Then he remembers that he really couldn't have lost those, and checks the bag slung over his shoulder. Whatever he's found, it makes him frown, mouth pressing into a firm line. He tries, at least to ease up when he looks at her again.]
[She shrugs, nonchalant. Not fake nonchalant, which is what nonchalant means from anyone else. She is totally lacking in chalants right now. The movement shifts the backpack on her shoulder a little bit.]
Don't worry about it.
[She notices the small frown, though. She's never met him before, so she doesn't want to get too pondering the motives at work here or she'd be here for awhile. Still, she can't let a frown like that go, even if he does try to cover it up. Actually, the cover up's what clinches it for her. She tries for the reassuring smile again.]
Nothing. [That's a lie. And a bad one. He looks past her at first, but then he looks at her, nice reassuring smile and all, and he's not so sure if he believes it, but he'd like to.]
Just... pretty sure my bag didn't have a hole in it this morning.
[A shrug, minimal. He knows what happened, (it's a neat cut, there aren't that many possibilities,) and he's not surprised.]
[She wraps her hand around her backpack's strap. Not tugging it yet, just needing something to do with her hands. If he sticks around longer, she'll try to put her sketchbook away. If not, well, that's alright, too.
Gut feeling says he'll stick around, at least for a little bit. The explanation for the gut instinct says that if he wanted to go, he'd have taken the shot with the lie and moved along by now. But the explanation takes longer to get there than her reaction to it.]
[A sigh. Another of those frowns, but more wry this time.]
Yeah, I have a pretty good guess.
[He may have glanced over his shoulder. And maybe he looked a little nervous for a moment there, but don't tell anyone, that'd only make things worse. He'd just rather not drag a nice but oblivious person into it.]
It doesn't look torn. More like cut.
[And he really hopes that was done with a pair of scissors and not...
[She's not that oblivious. Not to the things that actually matter, anyway. She doesn't like the sound of torn vs cut. Torn's an accident, isn't it? Cut's on purpose. Sounds like it, anyway. She shifts to put her sketchpad away, though, because all of this seems more important, at least for the moment.]
[He could give her one, but chances are he won't. She's too nice, and he's half worried she'd attempt solving other people's problems just because. His shrug, the look on his face, both clearly uncomfortable.]
[She would. Because she knows how people feel. All the time. Almost without even trying. To the point it'd hurt more not to. Mostly, though, she can tell he's feeling a bit off balance. Uncomfortable, really. And it'd probably help more that way than to get a list out of him. Hell, she doesn't even know his name right now.]
[Means he won't. Even if she wanted him to. He's got a wry expression on his face that could turn into a smile. It's grateful, if you know how to look at it. His fingers tap against the strap of his bag soundlessly. A gesture that usually means impatience, only he doesn't seem to realize he's doing anything. Doesn't seem impatient in any way besides that consistent four-beat rythm.]
[A smile again. It's like a weight's been lifted, and that's a good thing, even if it's his. She notices him tapping against his bag out of the corner of her eye. Doesn't really think much of it at the moment, really. She's still fidgeting a little bit with her's, after all. Lots of people do that. But she notices it, all the same. One-two-three-four.]
[Handshakes are awkward and seem out of place at their age. Hugs are worse. Words are enough, right? This time he manages a proper smile, at least, even if it looks like a facial expression he doesn't use much.]
So where're you headed?
[Asked mostly because he's not so comfortable standing still. The tapping stops as he shifts and hopes for a chance to start walking.]
[Words are just fine. She shrugs, again with the nonchalance. The small smile stays in place, all the same.]
Just got out of school, actually. I was drawing until I felt like going home. Why, where're you going?
[She notices he's getting a bit antsy-- she really needs a better word than that. Eager to move, does that work? Maybe he doesn't like standing still so much, although she's not really quite sure why.]
[Have a shrug and a small smile. He seems very linefaised. The pause before the thank you. It's not quite awkward, just a bit. She doesn't know, stiff?]
[ He turns in surprise, looking from Sophie to the thing in her hand before his eyes widen slightly in recognition. ]
Oh! Thanks.
[ A bouncy ball. Not anything he couldn't replace, but he is rather attached to this one, mostly because he hasn't yet managed to bounce it into a lake (the first one) or into someone's house (the fourth one) or into a bird's nest (the ninth one). He returns her smile with one of his own. ] Must've fallen out my pocket or something.
[Although, now that he mentions it, isn't it a bit odd? That he has a bouncy ball, she means. Or maybe doesn't mean, because this is all thoughts and she hasn't said anything. She thinks it over for a second, looking a bit spaced out, before shaking her head to clear out the cobwebs.]
[ It's entirely possible he didn't notice her looking spaced out, or that it simply just didn't register as something weird with him. I mean, suddenly thinking of something and looking spaced out isn't that weird, right? Either way, his smile turns a bit sheepish.]
You'd be surprised how much.
[ Or well, you might not. Because his pockets - in his coat, in his hooded top under that, in his backpack, and even in his trousers, all look respectably full of stuff. ]
[She feels sort of... cheerier. Being around him. It's kind of infectious. Not in a bad way, or anything. It's sort of exciting, really. It's kind of hard to not follow along and pep up, to be totally honest. She stands on her tip toes, just a bit, almost bouncing on them. And wow that sure does look like a lot of stuff.]
Probably, yeah. [Might as well ask, right?] Wait a second, why do you have a bouncy ball, anyway?
Because why not? [ He shrugs, but not in a dismissive way - more like he genuinely means, "why not?" when some people would just use that answer to avoid giving a real one. ] Helps me think sometimes. And it's a deterrent for boredom.
[She shrugs right back, in a 'i've never really thought about it' sort of way.]
What happens when you get bored?
[Doesn't everyone, is what she means to add. But she doesn't, because she's got a feeling, more of a hunch, that he's not the type to care about 'everyone'.]
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Oh. ...thanks.
[His keys. That would've been awkward. Then he remembers that he really couldn't have lost those, and checks the bag slung over his shoulder. Whatever he's found, it makes him frown, mouth pressing into a firm line. He tries, at least to ease up when he looks at her again.]
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Don't worry about it.
[She notices the small frown, though. She's never met him before, so she doesn't want to get too pondering the motives at work here or she'd be here for awhile. Still, she can't let a frown like that go, even if he does try to cover it up. Actually, the cover up's what clinches it for her. She tries for the reassuring smile again.]
Something wrong?
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Just... pretty sure my bag didn't have a hole in it this morning.
[A shrug, minimal. He knows what happened, (it's a neat cut, there aren't that many possibilities,) and he's not surprised.]
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Gut feeling says he'll stick around, at least for a little bit. The explanation for the gut instinct says that if he wanted to go, he'd have taken the shot with the lie and moved along by now. But the explanation takes longer to get there than her reaction to it.]
Oh? How'd it get torn? I mean, do you know?
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Yeah, I have a pretty good guess.
[He may have glanced over his shoulder. And maybe he looked a little nervous for a moment there, but don't tell anyone, that'd only make things worse. He'd just rather not drag a nice but oblivious person into it.]
It doesn't look torn. More like cut.
[And he really hopes that was done with a pair of scissors and not...
well.]
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Who'd want to cut your backpack open?
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[He could give her one, but chances are he won't. She's too nice, and he's half worried she'd attempt solving other people's problems just because. His shrug, the look on his face, both clearly uncomfortable.]
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[She would. Because she knows how people feel. All the time. Almost without even trying. To the point it'd hurt more not to. Mostly, though, she can tell he's feeling a bit off balance. Uncomfortable, really. And it'd probably help more that way than to get a list out of him. Hell, she doesn't even know his name right now.]
It's fine, by the way, if you don't.
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[Means he won't. Even if she wanted him to. He's got a wry expression on his face that could turn into a smile. It's grateful, if you know how to look at it. His fingers tap against the strap of his bag soundlessly. A gesture that usually means impatience, only he doesn't seem to realize he's doing anything. Doesn't seem impatient in any way besides that consistent four-beat rythm.]
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[A smile again. It's like a weight's been lifted, and that's a good thing, even if it's his. She notices him tapping against his bag out of the corner of her eye. Doesn't really think much of it at the moment, really. She's still fidgeting a little bit with her's, after all. Lots of people do that. But she notices it, all the same. One-two-three-four.]
I'm Sophie, by the way. Nice to meet you.
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[Handshakes are awkward and seem out of place at their age. Hugs are worse. Words are enough, right? This time he manages a proper smile, at least, even if it looks like a facial expression he doesn't use much.]
So where're you headed?
[Asked mostly because he's not so comfortable standing still. The tapping stops as he shifts and hopes for a chance to start walking.]
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Just got out of school, actually. I was drawing until I felt like going home. Why, where're you going?
[She notices he's getting a bit antsy-- she really needs a better word than that. Eager to move, does that work? Maybe he doesn't like standing still so much, although she's not really quite sure why.]
I can go for a walk with you, if you want.
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Same here. I'm not- Uhm. Well, I'd just like to get going, if you don't mind.
[And away. From the people who hopefully really only had scissors. He just gestures down one way, and wouldn't mind her coming along.]
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... Thank you.
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Don't worry about it.
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Oh! Thanks.
[ A bouncy ball. Not anything he couldn't replace, but he is rather attached to this one, mostly because he hasn't yet managed to bounce it into a lake (the first one) or into someone's house (the fourth one) or into a bird's nest (the ninth one). He returns her smile with one of his own. ] Must've fallen out my pocket or something.
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[Although, now that he mentions it, isn't it a bit odd? That he has a bouncy ball, she means. Or maybe doesn't mean, because this is all thoughts and she hasn't said anything. She thinks it over for a second, looking a bit spaced out, before shaking her head to clear out the cobwebs.]
Does that happen a lot?
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You'd be surprised how much.
[ Or well, you might not. Because his pockets - in his coat, in his hooded top under that, in his backpack, and even in his trousers, all look respectably full of stuff. ]
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Probably, yeah. [Might as well ask, right?] Wait a second, why do you have a bouncy ball, anyway?
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What happens when you get bored?
[Doesn't everyone, is what she means to add. But she doesn't, because she's got a feeling, more of a hunch, that he's not the type to care about 'everyone'.]
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[She's pretty sure there's a lot of ways to be 'intolerable'.]
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[She means 'what's the worst you've done?' but that didn't sound quite right in her head.]