@mxcabre | src.
The mechanical whir of the train provides ambient background noise as Michael glances over to the sleeping homeless man sitting in front of him once again. Or more accurately, to the black and green spider perched on top of his head giving off it’s dark, pestilential aura as clear as day. A demon, in one of many forms.
Yet he thought nobody else on the train was likely to even be able to catch a glimpse of the thing. At least, until the girl sitting beside him spoke up. Turning his head, the tattooed male arches a brow. “See what?” He probes, tone innocent as he tries to keep her talking and discern just what she knows and to be sure that this wasn’t a dupe.
It was her aversion to those creatures that made her say anything in the first place, plenty creeped out by bugs even without them looking like they crawled right out of a horror movie. She couldn’t hide her horror under her usual mask of composure, startling when the other actually did answer her. But his words didn’t offer any sort of comfort, and she still has no idea what she’s looking at.
“You can’t either?” There’s a sinking feeling in her chest and a dejected wince clear on her features, voice trailing off at the end of the sentence. In search of some sort of rationality did she discreetly sweep her gaze over the occupants of the train, none batting a single eyelid at the arachnid except for him. Suppose she’d misread his unwavering gaze for something else. “Nothing- I was just ... thinking out loud.”
