tiltedview.
Emma nods slowly — he seems quiet, or seemed quiet, and the sudden burst of dialogue surprises her. Though, she does a good job of hiding it and smiling nonetheless. She’d always been talkative, sometimes too much so, and living in a world of one-word responses opened up a certain difficulty in conversing, so part of her is GRATEFUL for what even seems like antisocial word vomit. “ You’re young! ” She protests, though to say so with complete certainty ( rather than just her particular blindness to mark anyone that wasn’t graying under thirty-five ) feels like it needs to take place at the DMV: two valid forms of identification and a brand new picture with flash that showed all your flaws. “ That or you went and Columbused the fountain of youth. If I had to guess … twenty seven. Or six! But be lucky you’re a newcomer, Asher Cohen. This town ages you, between the stress from superstitions and the greasy diner food. ”
❛ HA … ❜ abashed smile , the number’s TWENTY - EIGHT , but he finds correcting her seems like a little too much. subdued by the bout of earlier oversharing . this kind of thing used to come easily to him — he’d have had her blushing instead of the other way around ( what happened to you ? ) ❛ yeah … ❜ nods beget casual picking of the salt and pepper shakers for keen examination . anything to feign nonchalance to make the fact that only one of them has a plate in front of them a non-event , the salt shaker tips with deft manipulation in effort to spin it with some measure of finesse , a RISK he probably shouldn’t take in light of recent misfortune — thankfully muscle memory fails to disappoint . thank god . ❛ wait superstitions? like … ghosts? spirits? that stuff ? ❜
