(no subject)

[prospitian]

private!
for gabs

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drama king, drama master

[averagejoe]

Guy hadn't even realized she closed the distance between them too caught up in his own fit. And then she grabbed his hand.

His eyes shot up, mild shock coursing through him. She was... warm. This was someone else's warmth, not his own. She was real...? He felt her grip tighten and leaned forward so that he was level with her.

"... I'm not crazy then?" His voice was laced with almost wonder as he reached out the hand that wasn't currently in hers, stopping just short of her face. No, that wouldn't have been a good idea. You don't just touch someone you've just met.

Social cues rebooting he lowered it and fumbled around for what to say. "I'm... Guy. I mean. That's my name. I'm Guy."

[doomedsession]

He got it! Syrene's face stretched into a grin so wide that it hurt—oh, god, it had been so long since she had smiled. We're real! She wanted to scream it out to the universe! She wanted to dance, to laugh, to sing—

She couldn't. Of course she couldn't. That's why her expression fell and she looked aside into the space towards her feet.

Turning back to him—to Guy; what an odd and ordinary name—Syrene covered her mouth with her hand, knit her eyebrows together, struggled to hold his gaze and kept quickly darting hers towards but not at the hand she wasn't squeezing (was he going to touch her, and why didn't he? She couldn't decide; did she want the contact more than she was terribly, inexplicably afraid of it?).

[averagejoe]

"I, uh..." Guy urged himself onward. Damn you, man! Use your words! "I guess you don't talk much?"

Smooth. So fucking smooth.

Slowly he raised his hand again. He had to do it. It was like this one touch would tell him if she was actually real, never mind the hand closed around his own.

He opted to reach for an errant strand of hair, tucking it away casually before allowing his shaking hand to retreat.