His visit to Sophie’s place became less and less frequent over the months for some undetermined reason. The time they spent together was usually now restricted only to work, where they’d normally get a bite to eat after or hang out during the weekends when they didn’t have to be at the shop. He never realized it until he was once again sitting in her living room, a glass of water cupped in his hands, back hunched over as he leaned forward in a contemplating pose. Hearing about what had happened to Ophelia prompted him to visit so he could extend his support and comfort where there might have been fear and turmoil, and it was only upon acknowledging his own presence in her living room that allowed him to see that it’s been a while.
He still hadn’t truly come home from New Hampshire; a part of him was left still sitting by the lake or perhaps over at the docks where he’d made good friends with many of the fishermen there. It was the kind of stripped-down and simple living he’d always been comfortable with because of the steady tap-tap-tap of routines there. Anyone who knew him, who really knew him, would know that he had trouble dealing with change, whether of a small or large degree. And Lanford has been in constant flux and flow for a while now. The break-ins were what pushed him to finally make the decision of leaving without giving anyone notice because he didn’t want anyone changing his mind. Among those people, he knew, would be Sophie.
He looked up, tearing his mind away from the train of thought that he now allowed to carry along its journey towards the back of his mind, as Sophie once again entered the room. For a moment, he just stared at her, eyes following as she moved across the room. Mouth agape, he appeared as though he wanted to say something, but hadn’t until a good minute later when, finally--- “Are you mad at me?” --- @sodaniels
