finders, keepers | niles & eirika
Some people enjoy people-watching. Niles knows of a few who do, and for the longest time, it's baffled him to think that there could be any measure of fun to just sit and stare. He's accustomed to people-watching as a habit; at minimum, he's learned that everyone has two faces. Here is the face they show their friends and family; here, the face they wear when alone. (Here, the face of genuine joy. Here, the face of abject misery. Much better, isn't it?)
It's how he notices her at first, the girl with the long hair—except almost everyone exceptional seems to have long hair here, flowing and beautiful. so perhaps it is not the best thing to describe her with. The way she carries herself, then. The weight of her steps. The little furrow of her brow when she thinks. The look of worry when she circles back around for the second time, as if doubting that her eyes could have failed her in the first.
"Looking for something?" he calls. He's leaning against a bookcase and balancing a book in his hand. It's certainly not his, but neither is it his fault that it'd simply been left behind on the desks. Old habits die hard, it seems—but when has he ever been good at keeping his hands to himself?
@coeurenais
