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"Actually, no, wait, don"t answer that/" she said with a small laugh. "You look like if you say the number out loud you might genuinely lose your mind." Her attention drifted toward the shelves again almost instantly, already distracted by the mention of discounts. "Ten percent off is dangerous information for me, by the way. That's how I end up leaving with weird stuff I absolutely do not need. Like a fish-shaped lamp or a chair that looks haunted. I mean, not that you sell anything like that of course."

He flushed a little as he was called warm, but didn't stop them from pulling his arm around. He pressed a firm hand against their waist and nodded his head. River definitely was forward... he wasn't used to it.

''What do you think you'll have?'' he asked as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket.

"I like fruity flavours the most," almost every fruit option sounds appealing to them except for cherry for a very specific reason. "Maybe the strawberry pound cake... that sounds interesting," they stay leaning against him, cool fingers lightly tapping with their thoughts as they mull over the choices. "But also the mango sorbet sounds nice..." plus it has the appealing addition of being dairy free and if the night goes well... "I think I'll do the mango sorbet," just to be on the safe side. Unfortunately for River, their stomach doesn't agree with dairy products. Not that it stops them much. They still eat dairy and cheese all the time and then suffer consequences later. Just another instance in which they indulge in their own suffering and make peace with it.

She felt bad that Hiro had to be the one taking care of her. They barely knew each other and there he was, saving her cousin’s life and now having to help her. Maybe he just wanted to spend a few days at home without having to deal with the Reyes' problems, but he simply couldn’t.

Back when she was still with Josh, she figured she would never trust anyone again. Now, she’d trust Hiro with her life. She grabbed his hand, holding herself onto him so she could get up.

He helps her up from the floor and then he turns around, giving her his back. "Get on." He will carry her to the next available nurse or doctor, whoever the first one he can find, and even if she decides not to climb onto his back, he'll let her lean on his arm or grip his hand as tightly as she needs to as they make their way out the bathroom.

"Can I get some help over here?" Hiro calls out into the hallway. "We need a doctor!"

He was careful around the little clay objects, doing his best to keep his hands at his sides, to stop himself from touching and inevitably hurting. "Kintsugi," he repeated, eyebrows rising. "Yeah, maybe I am. I'm pretty good at putting shit back together," he said. And sure, maybe the things he put back together never looked quite the same, but it was nice to hear that in some people's eyes that was art. Still beautiful.

It was hard, but Iggy did his absolute best to stay focused on the instructor when they approached and started spouting information and instructions at them. Eventually he realized he'd missed something, and he glanced at Hiro, hoping the other was better at catching information.

For a second there's a moment where his eyes focus too sharply and Iggy's image is before him with a unique sense of clarity and in that second, there's a look in Hiro's dark eyes that's a little like a smile and a lot like a secret and then that second passes and his gaze slips away as he closes the gap that had formed between their bodies by draping an arm across Iggy's shoulders.

Once the instructor was done with the prep-talk, they were each moved to their wheels. Still beside each other but no longer close enough to touch now and Hiro feels the loss prominently.

"You gotta throw the clay at the direct center of your wheel. Go ahead and try it. Don't be afraid of the clay. Really throw it." The instructor chirps enthusiastically at them. Hiro glances at Iggy again, a silent laugh in that glance, like, come on no way he's scared of some clay.

"I've missed you too– God, I've missed you," he repeats, because it's a relief to get it out of his chest. Losing Lake felt like letting go of the one part of him that remembered how to enjoy life and the little things– he would give anything up to keep him in his life. He's aware that a few words, although honest, cannot fix anything entirely, and that he's going to have to show that things can be... well, whatever they need to be now. He's also sure that things cannot go back to what they used to be, but Nate has never been one to shy away from evolution and change, especially not in this part of his life. After a moment of the whole thing settling in, Nate takes a leap and reaches to rest his hand on Lake's thigh, closer to his knee, something casual, but there's a need he has to break the tension physically in any sort of way. "Choose some music, yes? I'm kinda tired of mine."

There are no lyrics. It's simply soft and warm jazz music, not the kind that gets the blood pumping but just a gentle sweet tune with a piano. With the overcast clouds hanging low in the sky heavy with moisture, it fits the atmosphere and enhances the mood. "Is this alright? Or will it put you to sleep?"

The place wasn't a total mess, but it was cluttered. The boxes by the entrance reminded her of her very own cluttered bedroom at home, and how she'd vowed to undo them months ago, yet they were still forgotten in a corner. She wasn't even sure what was in there anymore or if everything in there could be discarded– probably, since she hadn't used anything in there ever since she moved into Kat's apartment, yet she couldn't bring herself to do anything about them. She wondered if this guy had the same issue. The thing was... Even if she was a mess herself, she was great at trying to figure out other people's messes. It was the main reason why she'd gotten the job at the boutique; she liked ordered spaces, she just couldn't deal with her own. Liv wondered if offering a helping hand would be taken as an offense, so she just bit her tongue and followed him all the way to the kitchen.

Finding a place to set the bags down was... difficult. She could simply leave them on the floor and say her job was done, but she figured moving around the house was already complicated enough to try to wheel around things that weren't walls or furniture. Liv looked around for a few seconds until she found enough empty spaces to set them down and sighed. "I can help– why don't you just leave me the fridge stuff and go around with the cabinets? I could take those too, but I figure it would be quite annoying to have me asking where to put each little thing, so..." Liv shrugged, swinging her body from side to side.

He justifies this to himself with the thought that if she weren't here, he would have to do all that anyway.

Perhaps if he had left earlier... Perhaps if he had checked the damned weather forecast before getting in his car and driving out to a farm to pick up some fresh strawberries for his mother... Perhaps if he had chosen to buy them from the grocery store instead of wanting to play the good son bringing fresh goods home... Perhaps if he had done ANY of that, he would not be stuck in the middle of a lonely road under what seemed to be the worst downpour of the season so far, with not one, but TWO flat tires keeping him from getting home. The night had begun to fall, and sure, he had a way to repair one of the tires, but there was the OTHER one, and he could call his insurance company and get it fixed in no time, if ONLY THERE WAS ANY RECEPTION.

He'd already walked around his van a few times. He even went a little further down the road in hopes of getting any signal to make a call, but it was pointless. The rain kept getting harder, and even though he had his blinkers on, he didn't want to leave his van in the middle of the road for another car to hit. Except there weren't any other cars to begin with. Not for at least the fifteen minutes that he had been leaning back against his car trying to think of a way to get out of the issue, but it seemed like he needed to wait until the rain was done at least. There was no point in getting back inside his car; he would only get it wet, and it wasn't like he could get any more soaked.

Nate sighed in resignation when a pair of bright headlights hit him right in the eyes. He wasn't sure of the face he made, but his full body went into action, waving and jumping in the middle of the lane to get them to stop. He wasn't sure if there was anything anybody could do for him in that moment, but he didn't stop to think before the other van stopped in front of him.

Now, Hiro has seen his fair share of horror movies and stopping for a waving man in the middle of the street on a lonely road in the dead of night during a rain storm is certainly the premise for one of those, but he's also familiar with the plight of car troubles and as someone who primarily lives on the road, would certainly appreciate the same gesture be afforded to himself and so he pulls up and lowers his window.

"Need help?" His dark eyes work to make out the details of this man with the only light available that filters out from the interior of his van. He's drenched, that much is for sure. Hiro can't help but think this guy is kind of ... an idiot for waiting out in the rain. Surely there's shelter in the trees on the side of the road or even in his car. Either way, he keeps a neutral expression and doesn't let his thoughts show.

She walked further into the room, gaze shifting to the rows of bagels on display. Her mind never stopped cataloguing details though. It rarely did. As far as River's question, Maya couldn't quite answer honestly. People generally didn't reveal the ways in which they were most likely to hurt others in plain English. At least a bagel wasn't a bad secondary objective. "I'll have one of these rainbow bagels with the," she glanced at the list of cream cheese options, "With the honey walnut cream cheese." Finally, her sharp green eyes returned to River themselves, "Please."

“Do you want to eat this here,” there’s a cozy looking eating area near the back of the shop set within bay windows that overlook the street, a tactical placement to entice costumers in from the street, “or I can wrap it if you want it to go.”