It had been one of those days. From the moment Len had woken up - late, due to his charger not being plugged in right and his phone having gone flat overnight - things had been going wrong. There was nothing major, thankfully, only a stubbed toe, a minor cut on his hand, a breakfast stolen out of his hands by a gull, and now this. He had tripped on the sidewalk, his shirt had caught on the fence he walked next to, and it now had an enormous rip right through the side, all the way up to the armpit. Sure, most people might have called it a day on a shirt of that condition, but it was a shirt that Len loved, and it had actually ripped in a pretty convenient place. So there he sat, right on the ground, cross legged, shirt off, stitching it back up. Len didn't go anywhere without his trusty backpack, which was full of many things, a small sewing kit included.
It took him a moment to feel the other's eyes on him; in all honesty, when he looked up and caught their eyes, he couldn't have been sure how long they had stood there, watching. "Regular occurrence, don't worry," he assured them, a small laugh that was half amusement, half embarrassment. "At least I can fix this one without it being super noticeable. And at least the weather is nice out."
