[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.]
[makes him wonder if that sort of thing happens to her often, helping out someone who's had their bag cut open, but it's a stupid thought and he discards it again as soon as he's thought of it.]
[No, not usually. Helps with putting up posters, though. And sometimes holding plugs up against a socket. And, okay, yeah, once or twice with torn important things.]
Probably not, no. But sometimes you have to see past 'meant to', I guess. There's more important stuff out there.
[And they're far away enough. He lets out a sigh, barely audible, and while the restlessness doesn't leave, most of the tension does. He adjusts one of the straps of his backpack, and there's the tapping again, almost like it's arbitrary as his fingers land on fabric. Onetwothreefour. Like he doesn't notice at all.]
[She keeps slowing down when she's thinking. It's odd to him, because thinking speeds him up, never slows him down, but it's alright. She at least does think, after all.]
Huh. [Again. Ugh, he's getting repetetive, isn't he? But he shrugs and tries not to care.]
Most people don't. [Statement or compliment? Could be either.]
[She has to slow down, because otherwise her thoughts float away completely.]
Most people can't see it at all. So, it's hard to pay attention to things you don't know are there.
[She's oversensitive to other's emotions, really. It's a feeling. An intuition. Perception. And trying to make sense of them just puts a caption over the thousand word image.]
[Koschei looks up as he walks, not at the sky exactly, just up. It'll look like an eyeroll later, when he knows more and makes connections faster, but not yet. This time it's him who needs a moment.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[makes him wonder if that sort of thing happens to her often, helping out someone who's had their bag cut open, but it's a stupid thought and he discards it again as soon as he's thought of it.]
But I guess it's not really meant for that.
no subject
[No, not usually. Helps with putting up posters, though. And sometimes holding plugs up against a socket. And, okay, yeah, once or twice with torn important things.]
Probably not, no. But sometimes you have to see past 'meant to', I guess. There's more important stuff out there.
no subject
[And they're far away enough. He lets out a sigh, barely audible, and while the restlessness doesn't leave, most of the tension does. He adjusts one of the straps of his backpack, and there's the tapping again, almost like it's arbitrary as his fingers land on fabric. Onetwothreefour. Like he doesn't notice at all.]
no subject
Feeling better?
no subject
A little. Ah, does it show?
no subject
no subject
You're good at noticing things like that. [A statement more than a question, because some of her earlier reactions fall into place.]
no subject
Yeah, I guess. It's just something I've always done.
no subject
Huh. [Again. Ugh, he's getting repetetive, isn't he? But he shrugs and tries not to care.]
Most people don't. [Statement or compliment? Could be either.]
no subject
Most people can't see it at all. So, it's hard to pay attention to things you don't know are there.
[She's oversensitive to other's emotions, really. It's a feeling. An intuition. Perception. And trying to make sense of them just puts a caption over the thousand word image.]
no subject
That makes sense.
no subject
no subject