There was one thing about a thief that nobody could change - the awareness of his surroundings. Even if the mind was shut off to other things, it wasnât when somebody was watching him.
And that kid was clearly watching him.
Still Eric decided to not react to it, his elbows both propped up on the small table he was sitting it, fingers holding onto a warm cup of tea. Half of it had already ended up in his stomach by now.
He refused to glance over and ask the other what the heck he wanted - maybe it was his autograph, or a picture of him that he could have stared at a little while longer while the thief had already left the café. However, the younger one already did that for him when he started to talk.
And still he didnât react at first. Instead Eric took a long sip from his fruity tea, before he frowned and slowly turned to look at the other.
Well, he must be damned.
Of course he knew him. There was something about that punchable face he just couldnât forget so easily.
âI wish I had kicked yer arse at some point,â he just gave him back. In the meantime, he fiddled on the sleeve of his hoodie to pull it over the silver watch on his wrist. Not again, boy.
âNext guess, mate. Iâm sure yeâll remember if ye keep the gears in yer brain workinâ.â
The immediate shift in the strangers demeanor upon closer inspection of Orin led him to realize they werenât, in fact, strangers at all. The fleeting glimmer of a watch drained color from his already pale face and for a moment he could practically feel the absolute loathing that radiated in his direction.
âOh--â he managed to choke out, instinctively making note of the easiest route of escape. It wouldnât been difficult to simply get up and make a mad dash to anywhere that was away from his current predicament; this man had fifty thirty pounds on Orin at least, most of which he presumed to be muscle. There would be no competition in a stand off between them and although he was fast surefooted, he was regretting all the whiskey and cigarettes he had expended in his brief years.
â...still have yer watch, I see. Takinâ good care of it. Watchful eye. Brilliant, brilliant.âÂ
His next safest bet was neither fight or flight but some good oleâ fashion charm. Generally, as a rule, it was received better by those less privy to his thieving antics (and women) and he was half expecting the other man to lunge both hands for his throat at any moment.
âCup a tea, tâat?â Orin inquired, lifting his chin to acknowledge the cup in Ericâs hand, âIâll tell ya, mate, American has soom absolute shite tea. No one makes it like mam, yâknow?â
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