roma fade || boone & raz
Boone. Much better than hey, which only did in an absolute pinch. The smile she offered him was more than a bit on the tired side, but it was the end of a normal workday, right? His own occupation didn’t comply to the usual nine-to-five standards, considering the way he’d often found himself painting well into the night or starting so late in the morning that it was nearly afternoon.
“Raz,” the artist corrected offhandedly, as though the nickname awarded off the cuff didn’t bother him much–since it didn’t, “and believe me, there’re nights it could be nicer.” The grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth was mostly genuine, although it failed to cross the finish line on its own; too much from his joints.”I was hoping that you could… give me a hand?” He offered the jar abashedly, smile gone sheepish.
Raz had a nice ring to it, she mused. Fit his face, the boyish angles of it. She recognized something in his smile, though. There was a hint of pain in it, just a twinge. It would be rude to scrutinize, though, so instead she looked quizzically at the proffered jar, taking it from his outstretched hand and giving the lid a twist.
“This is a first,” she said over the metallic pop that meant her job was done. “Aren’t girls supposed to be the ones who need help with jars?” Not that she believed that, of course, nor was she trying to imply anything about him. It was just the first bit of conversation that came to mind and now it was already out there before she’d had time to reel it in.
