#falls down.

      Late nights in the town’s cafe always proved the best time for studying, only the soft murmurs of those sitting around sipping on their coffees or tea providing just the right amount of white noise for the best focus on the material at hand. The sound of newspapers rustling about, the gentle voices from the television talking about news no one wanted to hear, it was a peaceful night as the mimic sat amongst open books & papers in order to thoroughly prepare herself for the upcoming exams. Entrance exams were always nerve wracking, even more so as the closing date came ever closer. Her pen flipped across dainty fingers in circular fashions, a fidget trick someone she couldn’t remember had taught her long ago as a method for garnering attention to a singular point.

          ❝Mm... This formula still makes no sense...❞

      The words mumbled to herself were cut off with a rather startling noise of something grumbling. It was low, barely able to be heard yet the mimic was close enough for her ears to pick up on the sound. It sounded like someone was hungry, incredibly so. Eyes raising from her papers, glancing around in mindless curiosity to the owner of such a hungry stomach. They rest at the booth in front of her, a mop of brown hair & quiet eyes sipping a cup of coffee. A blink away, sure that the sound had come from him, had he ordered something to eat? There was no sign of a waitress to bring by a meal, nothing that indicated he had even placed an order. Her own attention falls to her table, a cup of soup that was mostly consumed & a sandwich cut into two neat halves which had yet to be touched. Gnawing a little on her lip, certainly not one to be a busybody yet unable to ignore the sounds of an ailing stomach, she gets up to approach him carefully.

how my my muse sees yours 

send “was i asleep?” for your muse to wake up on my muse’s shoulder || accepting

              he lifts his head, and she smiles.

                                she can't remember who suggested the couch for the                                lab -- wasn't her -- but whoever it was, this is their                                fault. she's taken to crashing on it with her work on a                                clipboard when she needs to work on her schematics                                (easier than being on her feet all day, and she's never                                been a huge fan of working at a desk). he's taken to                                invading the graduate program lab just to collapse on                                it after what he considers a long day (genius though he                                may be, the poor kid hasn't quite adjusted to college                                just yet). he often looks half asleep, but she thinks this                                is the first time that he's actually fallen asleep here.

         "only for a little while."

                                           she sits up straight, reaches                                           over to ruffle his hair a little.

                                                                 "you want a ride home?"