shawn adjusts where he's sat, feet planted on the broken cement that leads to the few steps he's sat upon, unintentionally making space. his fingers pluck the dying smoke from his mouth, tapping the ashes to a flutter. it gets lost in the summer air in a matter of seconds. “ kind'a been wonderin' where myself too, ” he dips beside him to the pack that housed the remaining habit, he offers it instead. something to keep him for a few minutes longer. the idea of him getting lost too doesn't sit right, aches like the bare bones of a burned down barn.

two half jokes meet under the meridian light of the unsaid. a typical for the pair of them. roughened fingers curling around the offered pack anyway, pulling one free more outta habit than want –––  (...) if their knuckles brush only barely, he pretends not to notice. ignoring the pull to remember contact that's soured and warmth that blistered into warning. “been around,” the cigarette settles between downturned lips, unlit. two digits fiddling with the filter for the sake of something to do. “sanctuary ain't much good at takin' care of itself.” he drops down onto the broken step beside the eldest greene, elbows finding his knees. restless mind's net already capturing thoughts of the open road, though lips do well not to mention the days that turned into weeks without better excuse. “been wonderin' about the kid though.”