trevor, opposite of what one would expect out of a seventeen - almost - eighteen year old boy ( nobody knows JUST HOW OLD his soul is. philip has only gotten an idea of the depth, the wise knowledge of a soul a century older than his own ), has been a rather quiet guest. probably preferred to the noise of a home with parents who fight. parents who try to force a certain way of life upon someone who could be, by all intents and purposes, their great grandparent. it would be easier on all of them if people knew the truth … but instead, philip offered out SANCTUARY to the other traveler. a junkie squatter and a high school jock shack up in secret headquarters. the beginning to a long, long story.
philip walks in upon an interesting sight; trevor meditates often, yes, but never with poppy … until now. a half smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. slow to approach, absorbing the scene before him, philip steps up to the counter and sets a white paper baggy down. mcdonalds. a burger for trevor, but philip decided to get CHICKEN NUGGETS this time. with something new. ranch dipping sauce. he hasn’t been brave enough to taste it yet … but he’s gotten extra for trevor too, so they can try out something new together. drink holder occupies other hand. a water and a coke. trevor can pick out which one he wants, and philip will take the left - over.
❝ imposing your old habits on my poor, defenseless turtle now, huh? … i got us lunch. and a white dip. you have to at least stick your finger in it. i was reading about the ingredients online. it’s made with buttermilk. people in the twenty - first are … inventive, to say the least. ❞
❝meditation is a timeless art.❞ trevor didn't look up initially as he spoke, gaze fixed on poppy and finger lightly tapping at the glass, however, when the word 'lunch' hit his hears he came to attention. ( ah, youthful metabolism ). a crooked smile upturned his lips as he reached for the bag on the counter. ❝thanks.❞ the smell of ground beef ( not actually from the ground ) was one with which he was quickly familiarized, and greatly enjoyed. not many other travelers took to meat like trevor had; he was embracing the twenty-first century.
❝that they are,❞ he agreed in regards to this century's free and imaginative creation with food. they had the ability to be, after all. who wouldn't get inspired? setting the burger down in his lap trevor searched out the dipping sauce, tearing off the plastic cover and sticking his finger in for a sample. he was always happy to be a guinea pig for new flavors.
naturally, it didn't take much to impress him and earn his stamp of approval, so the smile that crosses his face once the sauce has been tasted is almost immediate. one found enjoyment easily in the small things when they were used to eating protein packed, recycled, highly processed grime for over a century. ❝it's good,❞ he said, handing the small container over to philip to test for himself.
silence spanned on for a few moments as he allowed himself to indulge in the burger ( always so satisfying to eat, but so disappointing to finish ). ❝you should try it,❞ trevor began, folding the napkin that held his burger into neat, tiny squares. ❝meditating. i can teach you.❞
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