bus 15 | open
For a moment he’s scared he’s disappointed him, but the kid bounces back quick. Daniel figures it’s a perk of being young. He wonders if he ever was like that—probably. It’s been so long since he was a child, the memories faded with age and alcoholism. “Yeah, exactly,” he agrees. “I don’t wanna fuck it up. It’s still a living being, even if it’s not sentient.”
He barely manages to stifle a chuckle—most things are delicate to him, now. He can’t hold a glass too hard for the fear he might snap it, has to be careful when he slams the door of his car on the occasional times he uses it. He’s learned how to monitor his strength early on—he’s sure a guinea pig won’t be difficult. He notices the smile. “Thinking about your boyfriend?” he guesses playfully.
Daniel can tell that he’s uneasy—he wipes his face again quickly, fabric rough against his skin. He wishes he didn’t have to lie, but he doesn’t want the kid to freak out and make a fuss. He doesn’t want to be recognised. So he forces a smile, lips tight over his fangs as if to hide them as he nods. “Yeah. I’m the numbers villain from James Bond, here to take over the world and everything.” A deliberate pause, a grin without teeth. “Actually, I can’t remember what the guy’s game was.”
“Glad we agree on something,” Craig said approvingly, flashing the man a thumbs up and resisting the urge to turn it into a middle finger for the time being. “But they are sentient. Stripe can do basic math and he’s always really happy when he finishes a problem right.” This he said with such pride in his voice that one would think he was talking about a Nobel Peace prize. “He can’t do stuff like, squares though. Just basic adding, subtracting, that stuff.”
Craig stuck out his tongue at him and finally let himself flip the bird at him, but nodded in affirmation, rocking his feet back and forth as he gave Tweek one last thought before returning to the situation at hand. Thinking about his best/boyfriend was always a nice thing to do, but he had to return to reality sometime.
“... Ohhh.” Craig didn’t fully buy it, honestly, he didn’t, but it was the most logical explanation for the ten year old at the moment, and quite frankly he couldn’t give less of a shit anymore as long as he didn’t cause any shit to happen. “That your part time job? Taking over the world after doin’ journalism?”








