blair is a person that sticks to the habitual method of procedures ; they prefer to do everything exactly the same way as much as possible. not that anything that interferes with his daily happenings creates a gigantic error inside their mind , but people will absolutely witness them visibly searching for the alternative route with shaking pupils and nimble fingers fidgeting. and when such things happen to often , they tend to build up and blair ends his day with his jaw clenched and mind filled to the brim with countless of thoughts that nothing else will properly process.
it starts with missing his bus in the morning ( and that’s not on him , the bus was too early ) —— which follows with his monday work schedule switched up for his wednesday one , meaning he doesn’t need to be at the office until after noon. out of the kindness of her heart , his boss lets him stick to the regular times for today and reminds him to be in early on wednesday. which is fine , totally. but somehow , today is just not his day. his favorite bagel was sold out and they ran out of milk for his latte at the company’s café. it’s safe to say he’s got his valid reasons to be stomping down the street after getting off the bus and it’s when he realizes he’s clenching his jaw and makes a lot of noise with his heavy steps that he mentally counts to ten and calms down.
right on time , because he remembers there’s one more part of his day that he prays won’t go wrong and then it doesn’t —— bo appears at their side and blair timidly smiles to themself , the lower part of their face buried in a thick , woolen scarf. they expect silence , even though they want to ramble about their day up until the details —— they just don’t want it to happen unprompted. it’s bo who breaks the quiet , asking them about their day and blair heaves a sigh , eyeing the younger briefly before quickly looking down at the ground again. ‘’ i went to work , ’’ they begin , motioning down at the bag that carries their laptop , drawing tablet , sketchbook. ‘’ but , uhm … i didn’t really have a good day. ’’ they begin to feel doubtful and slightly turn their body towards the other , both because of turning a corner and because it feels kinder to face him when talking. that’s what benji says , at least. ‘’ can i tell you about it ? ’’
bo works better with silence, because silence doesn’t expect anything of him — no social cues to meet, no pretense of being interested in other people’s lives, far more than he actually is ( which, mostly, is not at all ). but he likes the quiet with blair for another reason; the timing in their steps is one he has down to a t, and he never has to let it cloud his overthinking mind. silence is never uncomfortable with the other, no; with blair, bo is more than content with sharing a sidewalk, with walking home with them, because blair is someone who doesn’t expect anything more from him than to simply be himself.
he doesn’t show it often, but he does listen — even when it isn’t always evident, judging by his noncommittal grunts, his shrug of shoulders that comes with a response on most occasions. he’d always been like this, although admittedly as a child to a lesser degree; blair had been witness to that, privy to the bo he was before moving away, before his life turned out the way it did. if he were a believer in faith or something stupid like that, maybe he would entertain the possibility of some red string tying them together, what with them ending up as apartment-mates when they did … he digresses ( and not just because it makes something in his chest feel all warm, and fluttery, and weird; blair has that effect on him, it would seem ).
so he nods along, meeting the way blair turns to him with a focus of his own, but it’s short-lived; even at night time, looking at blair for too long feels directly like looking at a bright star, when he’s only ever a moon in his orbit. he’ll settle instead for trudging alongside him, hands in pockets as he nods again. “go ‘head.” he invites him to speak; feels like he could hear him talk for a long, long time, and surprisingly not hate it.