Hey, I got mine.

You try to imagine the kind of people he gets along with and you picture a collection of possibly-scruffy older bastards, but he seems to get along with you, too. Perhaps it takes all kinds.

You let your legs settle in his lap, fingers finding his sleeve as you watch his eyes go unfocused. You don’t see that look on him often, but you know it very well. It resonates.

Her hand at your sleeve lets the aperture widen to let in just the right amount of light. What are they like?

"They were ..." annoying, comrades, felt like home, felt like shame, "I dunno. People. Hange was irritating as fuck, wanted to lock her in the bathroom. Auruo's, like, one'a those pendejos who can schmooze you outta your pants without thinkin' twice. Farlan can I just bickered a lot.

"Eh ... Guy named Levi. He was ... All right." you swallow thickly. He scared you, made you feel shame moreso than anyone else, "An' this little thing named Isabel. Farlan's wife. Probably also a criminal; she's pretty funny sometimes."

You're speaking broadly, not sure where to hone in. You know what she's interested in, in particular, and you don't want to touch it, you don't want to wade into those waters.

You place your violin case carefully on the carpet and draw your legs up onto the cushions, peering at him intently. Your concert can wait. “So, what was it—”

You reach out suddenly to tug at a strand of hair above his lip. “You need to shave.”

And resume immediately. “—What was it like?”

A vague question, and you know it. It could pertain to several things, all of which you want to hear the answer to: How did it feel to be on a road trip? What did you do? What’s it like being around so many people you knew from back then?

Until she pulls at you. You shoot her a sour look before it settles into neutral at her question. What was it like, huh?

You pull her legs into your lap and sigh, heavy. "Think half the people involved hated me. I know Hange does. Farlan and Auruo are good, though; good guys."

» You smile despite yourself. You’d never admit it but it’s a little lonely knowing that he’s not around.

[ Text ]: Sounds flattering. You’re concerned? I’m a big girl, don’t worry about me. I made a splint for an iguana’s broken leg yesterday.

>> Hrk.

[ Text ]: That sounds ... Fulfilling? Terrifying. Can't those fuckers whip you with their tail and take a fuckin' eye out?? 

[ Text ]: Really.

-- sent file: meanmug.png --

>> You frown and shift away from the terror twins arguing over your lap.

“Please sir, may I have the flask?”

>> Passes over said flask.