gabriel.
Gabriel hums softly at the confirmation, it’s interesting enough– he’s half curious to ask, so he does. “See anything worth while? You don’t come across sharks or anything right?” He would actually think that’s even cooler as dangerous as that sounds, he’s watched those nature documentaries on them before and although he’s never told anyone shark week was sort of a favorite of his. He just really likes animals in truth. They don’t judge you, they just are what they are…it was something perhaps he wished was a trait more easily found in humans. Kennedy didn’t judge him though, not from what he could tell, not that they knew enough to judge either, but it’s all the same to him and he’s grateful that it doesn’t seem like the other has a malicious bone in their body. That smile the other is giving him only confirms that, although it does seem just a tad bit mischievous, Gabriel hadn’t ever been much of one for mischief, maybe in his younger years briefly– but even then he’d always been sort of by the book. If the book was the Hebrew bible that is. “You got me there,” He quips back, smile still laced on his lips, his own words being used against him, all in good fun of course. “Well I’m no Fred Astaire so I won’t judge, I feel like coordinated hopping still counts for something.” He’d perked up at the Ginger Rogers reference admittedly, recalling watching those types of films with his mother, another genre shared with her; although she always seemed to be more of a Gene Kelly fan, probably for his athleticism in dance, he’d always sort of noticed that aspect about the man himself, for ‘whatever reason’. Synchronized wiggling though, that was surely one way to put it, but the little shimmy Kennedy gives way to keeps him from dwelling on any wiggling at all for very long, sorta. Besides all this talk of Ginger, Fred and being in an old diner makes him feel a bit like he’s living a movie of his own, especially as they pass by the bar counter top that had that oh so fifties laminate. The door bell does a little ring in the distance as it closes back behind them, it bothers his ears a bit but he tries not to pay mind to it, Kennedy helps with that by looking back and talking. He’d trailed behind the other after opening the door first but he’s hardly far behind just a few steps– “I insist,” He gets a bit quiet, only momentarily as he slidesssss into the corner booth next to Kennedy. “besides the company is a nice change.” The notion of Kennedy being a cheap date, or this being a date at all lets an awkward laugh slip past him as his face heats up for the slightest of seconds. Speaking of heating up Kennedy didn’t seem very toasty AT ALL, he isn’t completely either, but he’s also larger he figures, so he’ll adapt now that their inside. He nods to the waitress at the notion of coffee, he doesn’t mind the other speaking up for him, means he doesn’t have to talk as much and that’s always a plus. Gabriel watches as she smiles to them both politely and turns around with a little flair of her skirt to get their coffee. He looks back to the other, hands dipping into his jacket pocket to pull out his I-Pod, sitting it in his lap momentarily as he moves to slide off his jacket. It’s a rather large coat, a bomber jacket to be exact. “Here, you’re shivering.” His tone is matter of fact, but soft, the kind of tone that doesn’t suit a man of his stature; it’s there all the same before he gets quiet again. “for warming your bones.” He adds, as if doing the same thing the other did mere moments ago.
Gabriel is prompting them to talk further, asking about their snorkeling adventures with Sans which Kennedy is all too keen to share at length (the same could be said for most any topic but that’s just their nature). As they draw in a breath to answer, they start tapping their heel up and down against the shiny diner floor beneath the table. To go along with the quiet but persistent motion, they fidget a little in their seat but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. For being so vibrant and full of energy, Kennedy very rarely is able to sit still. Perhaps it’s that constantly wound up state that prevents them from being properly able to sleep. It’s either that or the nightmares.
“No sharks! But we did see lots of eels and schools of fishes and even a manta ray thing! I think Sans may have spotted an octopus but they are very sneaky with their camouflage, you know, so I don’t know that I believe him.” With Kennedy’s inherent trust in Santiago, of course they believe him. They’re just being funny! “We even saw a ‘nemo fish’ as Sansy called them. Isn’t that silly? A nemo fish.” They’re freshly amused by their now-leader’s antics and wonders privately whether or not others got to see this wondrous playful side. They certainly know they were the only one with whom Sans watches Disney movies, that’s for certain!
The fact that Gabe gets their Ginger Rogers reference isn’t breaking any stereotypes Kennedy may have had about gruff older men who found themselves in gang activity and assassin life. But that’s only because Kennedy doesn’t hold such stereotypes. There’s no place for them in their very colorful outlook on life so instead it’s just a point of glee and one that perks up their tiny frame where they are hunched in the booth. “And here I was convinced I was being dined by the Fred Astaire! You two could be brothers -- though i think you have far nicer ears.” What a bizarre compliment from anyone but them. They make a mental note to ask Gabe about it more -- the shared old time knowledge, not the shape of his ears.
Kennedy takes in another deep breath (talking so animatedly was really a work out for their small lungs) but before they can thank Gabe for a) having them as company and b) calling them nice company, they are watching him strip. It’s not sexual -- obviously, they are in the middle of a cute diner -- but it’s fascinating nonetheless and causes the words to die on Kennedy’s parted lips. Their head tips to the side, confusion etching itself onto their features. Kennedy’s gaze flickers to the swishy skirt waitress leave them before returning to Gabe as though magnetized. They notice then that the (admittedly massive) bomber jacket is being offered to them, not with a question as to whether or not Kenny wants it but with a simple statement of fact. They are shivering and Gabe wants to warm their bones.
“Okay,” Kennedy answers the not-question airily, and their hands guide the garment around their trim shoulders. They are drowning in fabric but, more importantly, they are surrounded by warmth. The jacket may as well have its own heating system and Kennedy feels like they ought to pay rent and move in immediately, it’s so much larger than any place in which they have lived save for Sans’ palace apartment! They slide their arms into the cavernous sleeves, feeling like their hands barely come up to the jacket’s elbows. So when they raise their arms to continue their gesticulate speaking, they are briefly distracted by the floppy excess sleeve dangling down at their sides.
“Oh this is so nice,” they are unable to hold back the immediate praise, though the warming effects will surely take a short while to reach their bones. “This is so so nice, thank you!” Knees come and tuck up to their chest, heels pressed into the seat cushion, their entire figure curling into the pleasant, musky smelling heat of the gifted jacket. They’ve forgotten all about coherent conversation and, well, proper public etiquette, instead opting to retreat like a contented little turtle into their newly acquired home with only their head poking out. The gratitude, while also expressed verbally, is sparkling in their eyes as they turn their gaze back into Gabe, warmly. “I didn’t know proper gentlemen still existed.” It’s almost sad how true a statement it is, curled on a wistful (and happy) sigh.
