#!re.

         ❛ I might not be a big expert on names and their origin but I’m not sure if Sebastian is a Jamaican name but hey, even if your name was Kinta Kunte or anything along these lines, totally masculine as oppose of you I’d still help – even if your name was, uh, ehm, I don’t know- think of an absurd name with an absurd accent… I’d still help. ❜   He’s losing his point and at that very period of time he is simply maundering applesauce. If he will not be ceased from his usual foolishness then he just might perturb himself and that is currently the opposite of the impression he wishes to create towards the stranger – he wants to portray himself as the affable boy who he is; kind and humanitarian and always willing to offer a hand if feasible therefore, mortification is not a relevant option for him to experience. Then, he consciously (and fortunately enough) halts himself just in time – only a mild snicker erupts from his lips and his eye show an earnest good will which he holds. It is not a rare sight with his youngster – he’s very amiable when needed. Now, he awaits for his mind to form another poor attempt of socialization – all in order of seeming somewhat amusing or affable or anything along these lines … to make a positive impression. She asked for help, hasn’t she? Then she might as well receive a delighted approach along the process.   ❛ Fortuantely, your name’s pretty ordinary and you don’t really have any dialect in your speech making it even easier for us to communicate therefore, for me to give you some of the help I have got to offer! ❜

      ❛ ... huh??? ❜

            Her ruby lips are joined still as if interluding for a response from him ... as if ... waiting? Hm, seems that he must offer a reply even if it is the last thing which he wishes to do that very moment -- if he could he would detach himself from the situation in an instant yet given the fact that he has got to strength to get up and move (nonetheless that he cannot forsee her response to such vulgarity of leaving when spoken to -- despite her own crudity in the tone of her voice) he does not. Simply, the boy is seated on the cold metal rod (at this point of time it has heated slightly with his body temperature) and now his cell phone is locked and clutched between his palm of hand. A smokey, translucent cloud emits his lips elegantlly as he heaves an exhale -- she called him a ‘child’ and he could just punch her. But he will not for he isn’t the type of boy who was raised any other way than cordiallity and courtesy. He’s just all words, never actions. Regardless of these facts the indignation which he feels rising in his blood cannot be discharged by his usual geniality and right now in moments when solemn he looks a few years older than his current age which is another reason why he instantely becomes so vexed with her persecution; not only was it somewhat discourteous to boldly interact in such an attitude towards a stranger who is seated in solitude without causing any interference to anyone, but referring to him as a child ... hm, he’s certain now (the more that he ponders about this) that solicitude is nowhere near her intentions. Well, that can be crossed off the list of reason why she may have said what she said. Moving onwards -- is it to cause him exasperation or to entrertain herself because she has got nothing else better to do with her time? Those are reason he is definitely contemplating these moments. Otherwise, why would she refer to him as a child more than once when it is one term he abhors the most? Between ungainly frowns and twitches lips he glances back at her, awaiting to see if she retorts back and when she does not that is the moment which he decides to shoot a somewhat cheeky respose.  

❛ Did you wake up today deciding to be a bitch and find someone to annoy with your haugty ass? Because it seems like your’e the type to enjoy being an ignorant shrew. ❜      

If his mother were to hear this he would most feasibly get smacked at the top of his head. Yet, she is not there and neither is his self control to halt himself from doing anything that would ultimately get him in trouble. Anastasia’s semblance (and vanity) does not jeopardize him -- yes, she is indeed meancing with the shade of her lips and the solemnity in her approach ableit so can he seem forbidding if he wishes to. It seems as if the more he grows the less patient he becomes, the less civil and gracious he is ... almost, in growing in reverse. When he was fifteen he was so lovable and humble, when he was seventeen he was so wise and filled with such incredible humanitarian intentions and now that he is nineteen....  well, he’s impertinent and indelicate, impatient and bulky. The exact opposite of what his parents would have prospected him to grow as -- life has yet to hit him hard on the head enough to adjust such conduct to himself although, here he is; speaking informally and with manifest chagrin towards merely a stranger. He should know his place and he should also know how to avoid mishaps but it seems as if recently, he’s solely a trouble magnet. A lost teenage boy. 

    ❛ It’s late and I could ask you the same thing... what do you want? ❜