His eyes lingered on a page in the book that was
held securely by his long fingers as the girl asked
to sit by him. Nobody ever asked to sit by him. Of
course, he had only been there a few times but that
didn’t mean anything.After too long of a pause, lost in his train of thought,
the boy moved his eyes from the book to the girl, and
immediately began to move over so that she may take
the spot next to him. He examined her as he placed the
book on the table, leaving his finger caught in the middle
so he wouldn’t lose his spot.“Uh, yeah. Of course. I mean, no. It’s not taken,
you can sit… if you’d like.”
➳ Shifting restlessly, Lydia wonders if maybe she’d
be better off returning to the barista to ask for her
soup to be made to-go instead. Funny how she
barely gives it a thought before loosing an arrow
into someone’s chest, but can’t stand normal, social
interactions turned awkward.
She’s about to turn around when the guy finally looks
up at her. Whelp, too late, now. Managing a smile,
(because at least the guy didn’t
seem like a total jerk)
Lydia slides into the seat beside him, setting up her
laptop as she waits for the barista to bring her long-
awaited soup
(also the only reason she’ll bear
the general awkwardness of a
communal table).
❝Thanks.
❞
It’s only when her gaze returns to the screen of her
computer that she realizes it’s opened to right
where she left off before decided she needed lunch:
autopsy photos.