Robinson Runaways discussion
New York City
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New York Boardwalk
message 201:
by
Rachel
(new)
Jul 22, 2013 12:20PM
Bree stood where she was and waited for Soaren to come back. She wrapped her arms around herself to try keep warm. She laughed when Soaren came back with loads of stuffed animals. "Aw! You look so cute with all those teddies!" She teased him.
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Soaren laughs" well there all for you ". He loved her so much he would do that
Bree laughed. "What am I going to do with all them?" She asked grinning.
He laughs." I think I might ."
Bree laughed and took one of the stuffed animals from him. "Yeah?" She said softly.
(( sorry))Soaren laughs ." Want to go home
Bree nodded. "Yes please!" She said. "I'm really cold!" She said and hugged her arms around herself again.
" cuddle up with me and the stuffed animals". They go home
"That sounds nice." Bree said and walked home with him. When they got in Bree ran to she bedroom and grabbed her jammies. She then ran though to the bathroom and turned on the shower. "I'm going for a hot shower!" She called to Soaren.
(( lets continue this there
Joss bought a bottle of Dr. Pepper from one of the dozens of sidewalk vendors near the pier and stuffed his wallet into his pocket as he walked over to the rail that looked out over the water. His jeans and sneakers weren't ideal for the beach, but he could still appreciate the water. His soda he set on the rail next to his elbow as he crossed his arms and leaned into them. Joss was always content to be alone, but he felt less alone by the water than he did in his apartment.
((I'll RP with you! I just haven't posted him anywhere recently and was missing him :) He's a jerk, but I like writing him! So feel free to have your character come up and do something :D))
((Haha, I understand! Take your time :) I'm in another RP group that I love, and our replies are about a paragraph each, so there's easily ten or fifteen minutes between all our posts!))
The only thing that made Joss look around to see who else was on the boardwalk with him was a groan that momentarily drowned out even the sound of shrieks and laughter from the beach. It was clear after only a cursory glance over his shoulder that the sound had come from from the girl with the laptop sitting on a bench to his right, her headphones over her ears. The way she was seated left the laptop screen almost in his line of sight, so he slid his Dr. Pepper into one hand and and used the other to push himself smoothly up onto the railing. From there, the screen was in full view, and he leaned into his hand to glance it over. There was a string of emerald numbers flowing across her black screen, and Joss frowned as he tried to make sense of it. At least he was curious as to what about the ones and zeros had her upset. As far as he could tell, nothing was happening. Maybe that was the problem?
Joss raised an idle eyebrow when the girl addressed him without glancing up at first. He waited until her typing stopped and her screen held still and she had met his eyes before he smirked slightly—maybe her unfriendly stare scared some people off, but he was the last person on earth to be intimidated by some stranger's glare—and answered, "I was looking at your screen," he told her easily. "Something had you pretty upset a second ago. Curiosity," he shrugged. He took a languid sip of his Dr. Pepper, not looking away from the girl's dark eyes. "That the answer you wanted?" She was clearly waiting for something.
Joss shrugged. Fine. Viruses. Easy enough answer. He raised one shoulder in an unapologetic shrug when she told him what she'd wanted and no doubt expected him to do in answer to her first question. Joss didn't make a habit out of doing what other people expected of him. He twisted the lid back onto his soda and braced both his hands on the railing on either side of his legs, trying to remain unoffended as she called him stereotypical and assumed because he'd answered her question that he was trying to pick her up. Like hell. Joss scoffed a little at her rant. "Did you just get upset with me because you called yourself a 'poor, innocent girl'? Because if so, now may be the time to remind you that those were your words, not mine. I didn't say anything even remotely similar to that. Well," he amended with a wicked smirk. "Not out loud."
"I'm being a cliché?" he asked with mild amusement. "Most 'bad boys' you know make a habit out of reading other people's laptop screens, do they? I'll have you know that the 'I don't care' look comes from a place of true lack of caring. But could you be any more of a typical tech geek? Headphones, using your laptop somewhere that most people come to enjoy being outdoors, clearly not much of an athlete, a general dislike for anyone outside of your virtual reality..." He listed the traits off without batting an eye. Two could play at this girl's game. Joss would pay money to see her try and push him off the railing, but he decided to be tactful and not say as much aloud. He also made no comment on the 'mentally unstable' bit, much as he would have liked to. Normally finding out someone was mentally unstable would cause him to back down, but if the girl was going to flaunt it as a reason for why she judged him the way she did so easily, then she obviously wasn't too insecure about it.
With an inquisitive frown, Joss waited for some moment of revelation to follow the girl's sudden and unexplained use of the Latin word. But no revelation followed, so soon his trademark, easily nonchalance was back in his expression. "Did I say I was looking for reasons as to why I was right?" Joss asked her in a sweet tone that would have been clear to anyone was fake. He would never admit his curiosity over the fact that a girl younger than even he was would have a job in tech support, but it wasn't too surprising after seeing her laptop screen and the code that flashed across it. "Though the fact that you hate everyone does explain why you weren't immediately taken with my charm," he continued.
Against his better judgement, Joss liked this girl. Almost everyone he met couldn't handle the snarky humor or the devil-may-care attitude he exuded—which admittedly was the point of his being the way he was—and most walked away or became truly offended to the point of being legitimately angry with him. But this girl strived to stay as calm as ever and return every comment of his with one of her own. "Sorry, is this where I'm supposed to jump in and list all my reasons that I'm not just a walking stereotype?" he inquired, raising one hand to rest on his collarbone in reference to himself. "Because I would, I really would, but some things are best left to the imagination, no?" Joss grinned at what he was sure was supposed to be an insult from her. "Never imagine I was, sweetheart," he drawled in reply.
Ha. Yeah. Average. That's what his mind was like. Instead of referring to the countless hours he'd spent playing through ever scenario of almost every video or computer game created these days and getting paid for his ability to find loopholes and errors, Joss let the girl keep thinking exactly what she was. He had no problem with the assumption that he was average. That, and he knew listing reasons now that she'd made it a challenge would make him seem defensive. And he wasn't. So he took another swig of his soda. "No, I guess we never will know. I mean, I will, of course, but I'll leave you in the dark. I'm sure you prefer it there, anyway. And don't strain yourself too badly trying to guess my motives; you'll never get it right," Joss told her with a wink he figured she'd hate. Joss didn't react at all to her dramatics, or the next insult she through his was. He smirked. "I'll call you what I like, sweetheart," he said mildly.
(((This is my last post for the night. I'll reply again tomorrow!))"See, you have to say that to my face, otherwise you're entire show of being a hardened bitchy introvert would be for naught," he informed her. "Don't worry though, I'll keep your secret. I know you'll be playing this conversation over in your head tonight, trying to catch some slip up of mine, some glimpse into my mysterious person..." Outwardly Joss appeared to relax same as his languid tone, but inwardly he was alert, ready for the next quip to pass either one of their lips. "Well that makes you quite the anomaly," Joss told her with mock concern. "Imagine walking around without a heart! Well—you don't have to imagine, of course... I'm surprised that's not one of the first things you decided to mention about yourself. Are the doctors that must be recording your every miraculous move hanging around here somewhere?" Despite the falsely jovial excitement in his tone with the joke, Joss didn't bother faking a look around for the imaginary doctors. He just cocked an eyebrow at her.
"There you go again, assuming I'm just any other person," Joss sighed. As if he was truly hurt by the thought. "How many times do I have to assure you that I am one of a kind?" Though his tone was mocking, Joss really did believe that he was probably unique in his situation and personality, and he would never miss the chance to say as much. When the girl went with his joke, his smirk grew until he corrected her lightly, "No one but you and doctors will ever know. And me, now..." he mused. "Better hope I don't go to the papers with the story. It never hurts to make a little money off the girl lacking her vital cardiac muscle."
Joss inclined his head to acknowledge the truth in what the girl had said. They didn't know each other, at all, but surely he'd at least made a kind of impression on her. One that didn't leave her believing he was the same as every other 'bad boy' the way she'd tried to peg him at first. "Maybe I will," he told her when she said he should prove her wrong. Years of studying people made him notice the near-smile he'd painstakingly pulled from the girl's lips. Joss made a murmured sound of agreement at that statement and said, "I'd think that's be torture for you. There probably wouldn't be any internet connection." In truth, it seemed like torture to Joss because of all the people and all the noise that would surround him day in and day out. "Though the traveling would be nice," he added out loud even though the thought was mainly for himself.
"Heart or no heart, you could always just get on a plane if you wanted to fly somewhere," Joss suggested the obvious answer. "And you seem to have quite the affinity for stereotypes. For all you know I'm one of those carnies, hot off the caravan for a night in the city before I travel on. Like you said, we don't know each other. When people suffered through the gruff sarcasm he began conversations with, Joss wasn't actually a hard person to talk to. Which was why he asked with genuine curiosity, "What is Rossosh?" A place, no doubt, but he was looking for more than that. Probably somewhere she lived before she moved here, but he'd never heard the name so judging by that and her accent, it wasn't local.
He made no further argument on air travel, instead watching her carefully as she guessed about him and he chewed on his bottom lip. "Nobody likes opening up to people," Joss shrugged. "It's a pain, and it make you vulnerable, which is something no one—not even the people who claim to—likes to be. So I'll give you that. Off-putting and placid is just my nature, though. Right down to my core. Can't help how I come across or who sticks around when I finally get to the opening up portion of the evening." The wind off the water tossed some of his long hair into his face as his eyes dropped to the worn wood he was seated on. "And something may have happened in the past, but you're completely off on the dwelling part. I dwell. Always." His blue eyes darkened even while a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips and his gaze found hers again. "You can't stereotype everyone, sweetheart," he repeated. Since it seemed she had little to say about Russia, Joss didn't push.
((Sorry about being in and out today! I have a crazy week, so I've been doing a dozen things at once))For the first time in their entire conversation, there was no sarcasm or jokes from either of them. Joss didn't interrupt and didn't try to interject with a joke of his own. Though he did raise an eyebrow and inquire, "So then, you've decided I'm worth your time?" Honestly, difficult as the girl was, Joss was glad to hear it. She'd turned out to be much more worth his time than he'd originally expected. And when he opened his mouth again to ask what she was if not the stereotype she apparently wanted to be seen as, Joss got her name. He grinned, much more genuinely than he had so far. He almost didn't reply with his own name, but he figured she'd deserved at least that much after all this. "Zabby," he repeated quietly. "I'm Joss." Then he went ahead with his original question. "What are you really if not a lonely IT girl with poor social skills and stereotypes ready at a moment's notice?"
Joss was still tempted to challenge Zabby to push him off the rail. While he assumed now that she was scrappier than she appeared, he was still completely confident that he'd have no trouble keeping his seat. He smiled a little at the sound of his name coming out of her mouth, though he was sure the smile came out like more of a smirk. It always did. He was equally amused by the fact that she wasn't looking at him while she said it. Joss swung one leg over the rail so he was straddling it and facing Zabby fully, even though she was no longer gazing at him with her steady dark eyes. "A mistake?" he repeated slowly, questioningly. Guarded, he could see. But a mistake? Not that he actually thought she'd tell him.
"Hey, what do you know? We have something in common after all." Apart from their humor and general dislike for the majority of people and crowds and penchant for pushing people away, that was. His tone didn't hold the same excitement that usually came with that particular statement; in fact, it lacked more emotion than most of the things he'd said so far. His blue eyes were flinty, too. Adoption wasn't something he was real proud of or quick to admit, and the fact that he felt little for his foster family—apart from his love of his younger sister and the occasional bursts of affection for his brothers—was something he was even less inclined to share.
Joss snorted. Yeah. It was freaking gorgeous. Now he finally knew someone else who was adopted, at least, even if it was a girl he'd only been talking to for half and hour and they were off the subject as quickly as they'd come to it. Real laughter rolled out between his lips when Zabby spoke again. They'd just gone from calling each other names, mentioning their foster child situations, and a conversation with jokes but a serious undertone, to commenting on the weather—the oldest fallback in the book. "Alright. Sure. Weather," he nodded a couple time. Why not? "It's nice enough. Enough to be by the water, at the very least. Which raises the question: why don't you do your work on the beach? Do you have an aversion to sand as well as people?"
"Well obviously I'm not suggesting that stretch of beach," Joss drawled, bracing one hand behind him on the rail and leaning into it, simultaneously drawing one leg up to rest his foot on the rail, his knee bent up to his chest. "Even I wouldn't go there, though the half-naked women don't tend to bother me as much." Somehow he was unsurprised to here she was 'prudish'. Joss may not have known her well, but it couldn't be said that he didn't know more about her than he was letting on. The way she spoke, what she said, her actions... He was slowly but surely gaining insight into her, bit by bit. He just didn't have the details to confirm any of it yet. "I was suggesting the rockier beaches, the places no one sits and sunbathes or anything. Though... I suppose getting your laptop too close to the water doesn't appeal to you, either."
Joss was glad to see Zabby turn his way so that he wasn't the only one fully facing the conversation. It made it seem less like she was ready to bail and any moment and was actually intrigued with the conversation the way that he was finding himself to be. "Seventeen years, and you've never been anywhere but Chinatown and the boardwalk?" he asked incredulously, leaning forward with the question. "You live in New York City for crying out loud. Surely you're entire day isn't spend programming? At least not every day for the last seventeen years." While he didn't comment on the new information she gave up about herself, Joss mentally stored away the fact that Zabby was a photographer. And that he'd gotten her to laugh, even if it was over something as ridiculous as getting a concussion. "If you went alone, maybe," he intoned.
"All I do is twist your words," Joss told her with a sly grin. Their conversation so far might have been short, but surely Zabby knew that about him by now. "So there are sports you enjoy," he noted. "Good to know. Though I usually avoid Rockefeller Center, especially around Christmas. Crowds and all that." It was endless noise and people and there was zero space to move or be alone. He had watched from a distance a few times and seen the Christmas tree light up. Even from a ways away you could still hear all the people. It wasn't lost on Joss that rather than cussing at him, Zabby had switched to calling him 'man'. It was a step up. "Well now that I know you have a little brother, why not? Or go with someone that has made an effort to talk to you?" Of course, this made it sound like Joss was suggesting himself, and maybe he was.
"Parts of Christmas are great," Joss agreed. "But all that 'happy and crap' bugs me, cuz it isn't real. People are happy for a day, maybe two. Then they're stressed about the shopping and about having to spend time with their family and making everyone else happy, and they aren't really happy they're mostly just acting because it's expected." His gaze had dropped to the ragged fabric of the knee of his jeans, but when he finished with a shrug he looked to Zabby again. It wasn't that Joss hated Christmas, because he didn't. It was an awesome holiday. He just didn't like to spend it surrounded by strangers on all sides. Joss smiled almost imperceptibly when she started talking about her brother. It was nice to see she didn't hate everyone. "Of course I am," he answered her with a smirk. "It's entertaining to watch you guess."
Joss hated his extended family, so while Christmas morning could be fine with his foster brothers and sisters, everything else was a little too much. But few drunks. So when Zabby laughed about how wasted her family became around the holiday, he couldn't help smiling at the fact that she found it funny. For a moment, the prickly, standoffish girl he'd started the conversation with was gone. The she called him an ass, and she was back. "You keep threatening to push me over, but the more you say it, the less I believe you'll actually do it. I think you're starting to like me." The last part Joss said in a sing-song voice, smirking down at Zabby. "I'm counting on you being wrong. But why you'd be embarrassed about being wrong in front of me is a mystery."
"Sure, but think of how good you'd feel after," Joss reminded her. He wasn't under any impression that Zabby wouldn't enjoy, just a little, shoving him over the side. He also wasn't under the impression that she would really do it. He raised a somewhat shocked eyebrow at her admission that she'd been almost arrested. "Wow. What did you do?" he asked, amusement coloring his tone. When she started going off on a little rant over his final comment, Joss tried and failed to hold back a smirk and finally swung himself off the rail to land on the boardwalk and joined Zabby on the bench, swiping his half empty Dr. Pepper into his hand before he took a seat. "This isn't a question of your self-esteem—which you seem to have plenty of," Joss told her. "You're supposed to try, because what if you're good at whatever it is? What if you're right? What if you love it?" He leaned back and rested an arm along the top of the bench. "I'm pretty sure it's supposed to teach you not to be embarrassed. Not that I'm not thrilled to hear you're always right."
He opened his mouth to tell her that he fully believed if someone pissed her off enough, she'd stab them, but then she cut him off and made the question rhetorical, so he closed his lips into a smirk again. She apparently knew what he was going to say, anyway. He shook his head when she assumed he'd confused arrogance with confidence. "You really think someone can be arrogant without having any confidence? The two pretty much go hand in hand, sweetheart." When she defended herself against his arguments, he raised a dismissive eyebrow. "People are going to judge you whether you try or not," he pointed out. "That's what people do. But they're more likely to think good of someone who tries something that they are to think good of someone who won't even consider putting the effort in." The words would have been serious—maybe even deep, for Joss—had he not been grinning self-importantly while he said them.
"But you're not acting arrogant. You are arrogant—your words, not mine. And how can you have enough pride in yourself to be arrogant about the way you are without having the confidence in those attributes to pull the arrogance off?" he countered immediately. "You can't, that's how." Joss' smirk was practically glued to his face at this point. "Confidence is something people can fake. Arrogant is something something people are; it's part of their personality. So if you're arrogant, as you say you are, then you're already confident about that, if nothing else. See what I mean?" Saying he'd never know was a lie, because he did. She may not have been confident about everything, maybe she was confident about so little that it didn't feel like confidence. But she at least had the confidence to say she was arrogant and claim that she was usually right. "Maybe you would speak to them if they thought better of you," Joss suggested. "Right, you put effort into things that you already care about. But what about the things you don't even know you care about yet? How would you have found the things you claim to care about now if you hadn't put yourself out there at one point or another?" Clearly satisfied with his argument, Joss relaxed against the back of the bench and crossed one ankle over his knee.
"If you weren't confident, you wouldn't be sitting here arguing with me about it," Joss told her. "Unconfident people don't try to make other people believe that their views are the right ones. They accept that they're wrong and that someone else might be correct. Though I am curious as to how you're arrogant about your mediocrity," he mused. "But I'm getting off-point." Much as he'd enjoyed seeing her laugh a few minutes ago, Joss was getting just as much pleasure out of watching her eyes narrow in response to his smirk. They evidently had very different ways of arguing—she became more intense, he became more self-assured. Something that became more obvious when Zabby broke one of her sentences off midway through a word Joss was sure hadn't been going to be 'tolerate'. He lifted his eyes to the heavens for a moment at her insistence that the things she cared about found her instead of her seeking them out herself. "Well that's convenient for you, isn't it," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his jaw thoughtfully. "I have a question for you, sweetheart: How good would you say you are with your laptop?"
"Because that's a kind of confidence in and of itself. Your damn insistence on stubbornness just isn't allowing you to see that," he pointed out to her. There were different kinds of confidence than the one she was so blindly trying to stick to. "I am curious about many things, yeah, but I also just happen to enjoy questioning you. You should be flattered," he smirked widely. "I don't do this often." That, at least, was true. He did this rarely. "And that's not an answer." Joss chuckled at her accusation, even though a trick to twist her into seeing the type of confidence she had was exactly what he had in mind. "It does answer my question," he nodded once. "Are you sure about that?" he questioned again, just to really make a point.
Joss rolled his eyes fully this time at Zabby's self-declared stubbornness. "Yes, flattered," he repeated. "This is as rare an occurrence for me as it is for you. And face it, I'm a far more interesting time with my questions and planning than you would have been having with your laptop alone." When she refused to give a straight answer once more, Joss grinned, not feeling particularly threatened. "You have an awful lot of threats to make for such a little person," he commented drolly. "I'm questioning you because I wanted to see if you were sure about your ability with your laptop and your codes. Which it seems you are. Or, I should say, I wanted to see if you were confident about your ability. Same thing," he grinned. "Not the same overall confidence that you seem to be speaking of, but confidence nonetheless, sweetheart. I'm just making a point. But if you have questions, then by all means, ask away." He held his arms out briefly as if to declare himself an open book before dropping them again, one to his knee and one to the back of the bench. Whether he'd answer the questions was another matter entirely...
((Sorry again! I'll try to give better notice when I have to jump off, cuz I never like it when people just disappear on me :P I know it can be frustrating. Sorry!))"Yeah, but threats with no weight behind them aren't really going to get you anywhere. You have to prove you mean what you say," Joss told her reasonably. "You should have actually pushed me, or at least stood up and moved toward me as if you were actually going to do it. Maybe then I'd believe you." Joss was actually grateful Zabby hadn't tried that, partly because he wouldn't have seen it coming so she might have actually managed it, and partly because he couldn't imagine she would have taken it well if he'd successfully kept his seat. He looked pleased with her inability to fault him on his logic and said, "Anyway, I don't think it's confidence"—he enunciated the word with a wry grin twisting the corners of his mouth—"is your real problem. More like too much introvertedness." Sure, the word was made up, but she was intelligent enough to get what he meant, hopefully. Her shyness and dislike for people and crowds and noise made her by nature already less confident than extroverts. Joss liked to think he had qualities of both in equal measure. At her own questions, Joss exhaled lightly and met her eyes, considering whether he'd answer. Then he rattled off, "Joss Keeton, 19, May 31st, 836-00-9820," and waited for her reply. He didn't know what she'd do with the information, but it wasn't like he had a lot to his name. Most of his money and stuff was in his foster parent's control, and he didn't have a big virtual presence.
"Ah, well, sorry to disappoint," he replied in a voice that was anything but apologetic. There was nothing in him that was sorry for not responding to her threats the way she wanted. He met her gaze with a smile when she said it must have been her stare, and he said, "I can't argue with that. You're glare would probably be enough to make most people turn tail and run." To his credit, Joss didn't flinch from Zabby's hand even though he actually believed momentarily that she would follow through with the slap. it wouldn't have been the first time he was slapped. Not cuz he was a bad boy like she'd suggested at the beginning, nor because he was any kind of creep who hit on girls until they were forced to push him away. Just because he was generally rude and sarcastic and that alone pushed a far amount of people over the edge. "It's correct enough for you to get it," he shrugged. What did it matter as long as the point got across? Joss got a certain amount of amusement from watching Zabby's features freeze up as he answered the questions she'd not expected an actual response to. Everything from his eyes to his lips lit up in a small smile. "Oh, I know. I figured on the off chance you actually remember any of that, you wouldn't be able to do too much damage with it. Besides, I made my point: if I can answer your questions, surely mine aren't that bad?"
Remembering their earlier discussion about stereotypes, Joss grinned now to hear her describe him as different even only in the sense that he took her threats in a unique way. It was still something that set him apart, and with her Joss was thinking that was a good thing. His humor stayed on his expression when Zabby's did the same and he pulled her that much farther from her 'I hate everyone' facade. "I never said I wasn't," He defended himself, holding his hands up as if to ward off her exclamation. His grin proved that he didn't find it offensive in the least to be called an ass; in fact, he wasn't above agreeing with her on that point. But compared to how most people thought he came across, this was downright considerate for him. He rocked slightly with the force of her push, but it didn't actually shift him in his seat at all, proving to him again that he attempt to shove him from the rail earlier would have been for naught. "I didn't doubt your memory, sweetheart. more your ability to do anything worthwhile with the information. Unless you're planning to jump back online and slander my already less-than reputable name. Are you saying you wouldn't answer the same questions if I asked you?"
((I've got to go—I have to get up early tomorrow, so 12:20 is probably a good time to call it a night... I may not be on much tomorrow, but I'll check in and reply when I can!))
((No problem! I haven't really been around and am still just on my phone for the moment :)))"Maybe you should stop trying to classify me as a usual person," he suggested with lightly raised eyebrows as though trying to get her to consider the possibility. "That seems to be where most of our mixed communication is coming from." Sometimes Joss was very much like every other person in this city. But that's when he was trying to skate by unnoticed. When he was being fully himself, even he was surprised about some of the things he did. Being himself was rare. "Ah. Well then I should warn you that I take personal questions very literally," he lied with a straight face. The only giveaway to the fact that he was joking, too, was the glint in his blue eyes when he met hers. "Somehow it is less than shocking to hear you don't like 'messy' in your work," he told her. Meticulous seemed to be exactly her style.
((Sorry again for the delay! I'm going to be apologizing for that a lot, so sorry again in advance for when I disappear for a couple days :P I just moved into an apartment and won't have WiFi until this weekend, and I'm getting ready for a new college so I've been running around for the last week. Soon, though, I should be on like normal!))"Of course I'm holding back somewhat," he agreed amiably. "So are you. We've known each other for, what"—he made a show of checking a nonexistent watch before continuing right where he'd left off—"half an hour? Not nearly enough time for me to tell you all my safe-guarded secrets even if I wanted to. Which I don't," he added nearly as an afterthought. He didn't say it with anything other than seriousness; it wasn't an insult or some statement on how he felt about her, it was just a fact. He didn't want to share everything about himself. "Like I said," he told Zabby when she called him out on the easy lie, "I'm not up for sharing everything about myself. Some of it is best left up to the imagination..." He winked and stretched lazily, linking his fingers behind his head and unintentionally causing his t-shirt to ride up, exposing half an inch of tanned skin. Joss smirked at her dimple and immediate disagreement. "Alright," he told her almost lazily. "Prove it."
Why Cale had come to this place was a complete mystery to him. He'd sort of just stumbled upon the location, stuck in his stupor of self-loathing and misery. Now that he'd arrived on location, he absolutely hated the place. Everywhere he turned there were more and more people blocking his path. Just the sheer number of so many mingling bodies made him tense up with both aggravation and uneasiness. Why did there have to be so many people around this part of the city? It was like they all clogged this one location just to irritate him. Hands stuck in his pockets, Cale wandered around the area, his fingers fiddling with the slender blade of his hidden knife. To any other person, it would just look like a simple nervous habit. And, really, that was sort of what it was. Whenever he felt anxious in populous areas such as this, he ran his fingers over the blade. It had been a while since he'd actually cut himself doing this and was intent on it not happening again. Sure, the pain had woken him slightly from his daydreams, but it was hardly anything in comparison to the brutal agony he felt when making physical contact. That was exactly the reason he avoided places like these: too much accidental contact.
