[ The names lance through him, make his throat close--at once, he's pivoting forward, threatening to get a fistful of the other's shirt in his grip like he's not really just the innocent, well-meaning big flashy smile that he's been trying to be, this whole time; because how else does he know the girls? And how does he know that they're looking for him? Or maybe it's just that he's so used to people who claim to know him being the bearers of bad news that suspicion gets the best of him, narrows his gaze in and squares his shoulders.
He comes just short of nearly throttling the man, closes his hand into a fist just beyond the shape of that broad chest, then lets his arm drop in at his side. Annoyed with himself, it eventually finds his hip; he starts walking without even looking, never mind the fact that the stranger declared follow me in the same way that a cat might lead a bird into a trap.
His head hurts. The longer he's around this person, his head hurts more. ]
It's not like I can really get lost. [ Maybe he's mumbling that more to himself as he moves, conscious of the other in a way that almost makes him ache--like he's afraid of letting him move away, like if he loses sight of him, he might be overwhelmed by a panic so dire he won't be able to do anything at all.]
Come on. Try to keep up.
[ Is that just a tiny, tiny hint of a smile at his lips? Ridiculous.]
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[ The names lance through him, make his throat close--at once, he's pivoting forward, threatening to get a fistful of the other's shirt in his grip like he's not really just the innocent, well-meaning big flashy smile that he's been trying to be, this whole time; because how else does he know the girls? And how does he know that they're looking for him? Or maybe it's just that he's so used to people who claim to know him being the bearers of bad news that suspicion gets the best of him, narrows his gaze in and squares his shoulders.
He comes just short of nearly throttling the man, closes his hand into a fist just beyond the shape of that broad chest, then lets his arm drop in at his side. Annoyed with himself, it eventually finds his hip; he starts walking without even looking, never mind the fact that the stranger declared follow me in the same way that a cat might lead a bird into a trap.
His head hurts. The longer he's around this person, his head hurts more. ]
It's not like I can really get lost. [ Maybe he's mumbling that more to himself as he moves, conscious of the other in a way that almost makes him ache--like he's afraid of letting him move away, like if he loses sight of him, he might be overwhelmed by a panic so dire he won't be able to do anything at all.]
Come on. Try to keep up.
[ Is that just a tiny, tiny hint of a smile at his lips? Ridiculous.]