Mr. ‘Ireland’ stared right back with that too-keen smile.
His eyes skimmed the coats once more at the mention of a brother. Same size? Same temperament? Same record? Did he lose sleep at night wondering what his younger sibling might be doing at any given moment?
Probably not. This man seemed to have a few years on Aslan from the creases in his face. Perhaps there was a significant age gap... perhaps not, but even if there were – there was still the likelihood a younger brother might have started his own life in the city.
… If he weren’t some blundering, bauble-snatching buffoon.
He could certainly relate to the city being too much; then again, ‘too much’ was the only environment in which dear Nisa could survive. ‘Too much’ was the only thing that kept him one foot quickly in front of the other without the past caving in on them both.
“Yeah? Never lived in a city bifore,” he said, smooth as butter. “Which oone?”
Mr. Cobbler here anticipated being well and buttoned up enough to handle drop-ins. Damn it.
Though modest of height, the shut windows cast Gavin’s shadow as ominously as any other over the virgin logbook.
“Perrfect, thanks,” he answered with a smile.
There was a quick glance to the stairwell when he mentioned his brother typically being home, Gavin’s left thumb looping loosely in his pocket.
“Oh no trooble no trooble a’ all,” he answered in one spill of breath.
He froze when the cobbler mentioned tea, pasted-on smile faltering. Hospitality. Tea. Was this man going to kill him? Allah Allah, focus on anything but that.
… Goodness, that man had arms.
Alright, maybe the impending murder was a better focal point.
At rest (and with so much else to take in), the indent on this friendly cobbler’s thigh had not stuck out so prominently. Now, he saw it with every step. Perhaps his arse was better to focus on.
Two men with knives – perfectly cordial.
“Will do!” he agreed readily.
Harder to escape through the window if he lost his bearings, after all.
Once he was in the room proper, he fumbled about for a lamp or light or something of the sort...
His eyes skimmed the coats once more at the mention of a brother. Same size? Same temperament? Same record? Did he lose sleep at night wondering what his younger sibling might be doing at any given moment?
Probably not. This man seemed to have a few years on Aslan from the creases in his face. Perhaps there was a significant age gap... perhaps not, but even if there were – there was still the likelihood a younger brother might have started his own life in the city.
… If he weren’t some blundering, bauble-snatching buffoon.
He could certainly relate to the city being too much; then again, ‘too much’ was the only environment in which dear Nisa could survive. ‘Too much’ was the only thing that kept him one foot quickly in front of the other without the past caving in on them both.
“Yeah? Never lived in a city bifore,” he said, smooth as butter. “Which oone?”
Mr. Cobbler here anticipated being well and buttoned up enough to handle drop-ins. Damn it.
Though modest of height, the shut windows cast Gavin’s shadow as ominously as any other over the virgin logbook.
“Perrfect, thanks,” he answered with a smile.
There was a quick glance to the stairwell when he mentioned his brother typically being home, Gavin’s left thumb looping loosely in his pocket.
“Oh no trooble no trooble a’ all,” he answered in one spill of breath.
He froze when the cobbler mentioned tea, pasted-on smile faltering. Hospitality. Tea. Was this man going to kill him? Allah Allah, focus on anything but that.
… Goodness, that man had arms.
Alright, maybe the impending murder was a better focal point.
At rest (and with so much else to take in), the indent on this friendly cobbler’s thigh had not stuck out so prominently. Now, he saw it with every step. Perhaps his arse was better to focus on.
Two men with knives – perfectly cordial.
“Will do!” he agreed readily.
Harder to escape through the window if he lost his bearings, after all.
Once he was in the room proper, he fumbled about for a lamp or light or something of the sort...
