mason-janes:
He had his rod leaned up against an elm tree, the boy sat on a bench just before the beach of the lake began and fed into the murky water. He’d figured he’d needed a new hobby. He just didn’t think he’d be resorting back to fishing, but the promise of some decent-sized bass in the ‘Haverford pond’ not to mention the deal he was cut, he couldn’t refuse. It was one Hell of a nice day, enough to lure him into running around the park’s track a few times before fetching his gear, slipping off his sticky t-shirt and grabbing his bait from the front seat of his truck. He got up from the bench then, eyes trained on the nightcrawler he had picked up, still worming between his fingers as he grabbed his rod and steadied the hook, a shadow finding his peripheral, causing him to look up, suddenly feeling cautious, “… You aren’t here to slap me on the wrist, or something, are you?” He began, shrugging a should, a crooked smile on his lips, “–I checked with the park before. Promise. I’ll just be castin’ the line here.” He gestured towards the area, opposite to the park.
“Fishing in the pond?” Astrid teased, though she couldn’t stop herself some smiling. “How quaint and small town-like of you.. You do realize there’s the beach not to far from here, though, right? It’s a hell of a better view.”
