it’s a game she used to play with her brothers growing up while they’d wait at the bus stop near their house in london ----- find a person, make up a story, make it as believable as possible and get the other two to sign off on it. simple, harmless time wasting ---- and she’d gotten good at winning the little game over the years too; be it due to her imagination being eager to wander about a bit more ( and a keen eye for peoplewatching ) than her siblings’, or on the technicality of the pair of them just letting their little sister claim victory most of the time. ( of course she liked to think it was more the former than the latter ----- especially since she took it as one of many signs that pursuing the want of being behind a camera’s lens was not only a good idea but the only one for her. )
so it isn’t very long before esmé gets an impromptu crash course in the florrent family game while she sits in the open windowsill of her bedroom, leg swinging idle, waiting for her ( now ) midmorning coffee to cool while watching people pass on the sidewalk across the way through the metal lattice of a fire escape.
he gets treated to a spontaneous explanation for the man and woman walking five little dogs all on the same leash like some kind of miniature hydra before she tries to put context around the man in her building who likes to walk to the bodega around the corner and back with his cat perched on his shoulder. “you want to try one? give it a go? i bet if we wait long enough, someone’ll come by and surprise you.”
@everharrt / “very few people surprise me.“
apparently just as there’s no real surprise at his answer ------- she’s seen the way he studies people from the moment he spots them until they leave his line of sight. he works everything out so precisely it's a good thing she hadn't had to go up against him in her youth.
still, there’s always exceptions to rules … right?
“ ‘course not,” she peeks at him from over the top of her mug, the two - tone ceramic doing a poor job of hiding the grin just behind it. “but what about me, hm?” the warmth of the liquid barely touching her lips before she pulls back ----- still just a little bit too hot for her to enjoy just yet. “do i surprise you at all?”
