“and i’m not chinese but a whole lotta people think i am anyway.” love bites his lip, his hands now back at his sides, he observes with his usual sleepy stare before chuckling to himself. “you know you say “illinois” as if there’s any other place people would remember outside that laundry basket of a city…anyway so guessing you’re a small town boy.” he entertains the vendor for a bit, as he watches charles fiddle with the array of sunglasses, he puts on a pair of black cat eyes with the tag swinging from the side of his face, looking at the small mirror before taking them off and trying another random pair.
love scoffs, loudly and boldly at that last comment, “ain’t no body just passin’ through baby…especially here. not if you’re us.” he looks at charles arms crossed, heart shaped glasses on his face. “you say that like it’s a bad thing. if you can handle living here then you’ve lived everywhere else–thats just how it be. I don’t make up the rules. but imma entertain what you’re saying–so where to after this? london? taipei?….ugh vegas.” he smiles. “well if this is just your pit stop imma miss you really….you’ve left a real dent on my couch.” he pauses for a moment.
“try these ones.” love walks over to charles, puts on a pair of sleek aviators on him, he smiles. “you like em?” he waits a beat for charles to look at himself in the mirror. “they look good on you baby.”
he makes a face at small town boy, but he supposes he might be just that. every fiber of his being disavows it, though. rockford is as much a part of him as peace and quiet is a part of new york. “not sure yet, i’m making it up as i go.” that isn’t quite the truth, but he’s not ready to spill his guts over to the other boy, much as he likes them. much as he finds this conversation easy and agreeable. “but who knows?” he stares at love through a pair of nearly black-tinted sunglasses that seem straight of the terminator. “sky’s the limit and shit. maybe i’m staying here for a few weeks -- maybe it will be for five years. don’t look for a replacement just yet.”
he takes the glasses off, lets love put the aviator ones. tilts his head ever so slightly, glancing at his reflection on the mirror on the vendor cart. then at the vendor in question, finding his attention drift from them to a pair of blond girls looking to purchase some necklaces. “yeah, maybe for some other time,” he muses, as he grabs both pairs -- the terminator ones and the aviator ones -- and makes the deliberate gesture of putting them back in the stand, just so the vendor can see it with the corner of his eyes.
he drops his hands to the sides, “what’d ya mean, ‘nobody is just passing through’?” he asks suddenly. once they’re a safe distance from the vendor, he puts the aviators on.
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