There’s a lot of stuff she just dumps herself head first without ever thinking it through and rationally deciding if it’s a good or bad thing to do. Terry calls it her ‘whatever’ instinct, a very naive and borderline reckless approach to life which, not to brag, but had earned her quite a few memorable experiences. Maybe it’s those big, dark rimmed, inky violet eyes that she stares up to people with, or those chapped lips that always pull back to reveal a wide, dumb grin that earned her a lot of sympathy from strangers. Or maybe it’s her half-charming, half-annoying personality that replaced her preservation instinct. Either way, it earned her a good vibe now with this stranger.
The more she looked at him the more she smiled, chuckling lightly between two bites of her own pastry. She’s not that dumb— [ ok, maybe she is ], but she’s not dumb enough to not notice those sharp digits, the big, ugly scarring on his face, or the absolutely awful posture of his body. All the markings of 'stay-the-fuck-away-and-mind-your-own-business’ as the kids say nowadays. But again, her 'whatever’ instinct kicks in. And it was worth it, suddenly he seemed much more sunny. Or as sunny as someone who looked like him could get.
“I know, right, this stuff is stupid good…! I’m convinced they gotta be puttin’ something in it. I dunno, maybe some funky sorta psychedelic mushroom yeast or somethin’,” [ can you even make yeast from mushrooms, though? ] “I usually get the raspberry tart from this place, but they had a 'buy-one-get-one-free’ deal today on these and damn was it worth all three bucks…!” she’d since plopped herself down on a wide concrete fence thingy that limited the sidewalk from the street and was idly dangling her legs off of it.
“…Have ya ever tried raspberry? I mean, it’s good and all, but sometimes the seeds get stuck between my teeth and ugh, it’s just— awful to get out.” after taking another bite she turned to scan him up and down for a hot second. “Actually— ya look more like an apple sort of flavor guy to me~” cue a round of giggles and a playful nudge of her elbow against his.
“I’m Terry, by the way. i’ve seen ya around quite often, ya live here near-by?”
he doesn’t understand it, this ease of communication. she regards him calmly and kindly, just like anyone else. yeah, like anyone else---his mind races and the prospect of equality nearly frightens him, yet the urge to run is lost behind his most beloved snack, adam no longer paying mind to the parts of himself shown to the naked eye. he doesn’t think twice on whether or not she really saw him, either. if it were enough to scare her, she’d have already started off running. for now, he exists in the small bubble along with her. afforded luxury, afforded happiness. normalcy. however small. however fleeting. his hand twitches around the remnants of pastry before he devours it.
“psy..che...?” he stops mumbling to himself before it’s too late. the word goes over his head and through him, and he knows more than anyone not to think on it too hard. besides, he didn’t want her to think he was worse off than she probably already did. with a nervous swallow, adam tips his head up and purses his lips, putting on his best thinking expression. “u-uh, well.. i don’t think i’ve had it. my.. my mother used to cut apples for me. maybe you’re right.” his heart wavers for a moment and he wonders just how she could know him so well; to look at him and see only that which isn’t dark, that which makes him like her. with a fresh memory and fresh warmth from this kind stranger, something in him clicks. adam’s eye cuts through the hanging shag of his hair and he offers her a sloppy grin. the red of his iris glimmers, her reflection swimming ‘neath troubled waters.
"i’m actually..just moving through.” his voice is low and rather careful, the curious, haunting glint in his eye not yet gone. “i was hoping nobody would be bothered by me, since i...” adam trails off and awkwardly looks to and fro, reaching a hand up to scratch haphazardly at the back of his head. terry’s legs continue to swing and he hesitantly sits a few feet next to her, his posture and disposition awfully timid. as his hands slip away under his worn cowl, he gazes down at his own feet before speaking again. “my name’s adam. i, uh...kinda just wander.”
