Angel hadn’t actually intended to stumble upon Nico that afternoon, but he had no other plans, and Nico’s presence last time had brightened his day so he thought -- why not? And plopped himself down next to him, eerily reminiscent of the day they had first started talking.  “Hey, big guy,”   Angel said, first to Toby, and then flashed his charming smile at Nico, poking his side gently, “and hey to you too, handsome.” He settled back into the bench, folding one leg over his other, and  stretching his arms across the back of the bench.  He wasn’t sure what the Polish command to come up and get Toby to sit with him would be, so instead he tilted his face into the sun. It was a gorgeous day -- average, by Marbella’s standards, but still appreciated. He liked the way the sunlight filtered through the sheer shirts he wore and kept him warm, how it washed his hair a bit lighter and gave him more of the blonde he loved. The sea breeze was soft and couldn’t be heard but for the rustling of leaves and newspapers and the way it played with the curls on his head, and he liked the shifting shadows cast by trees whose branches stirred with it.  He had just finished a day of work, and though he slipped out of costume and the makeup was washed off of his face, he still felt like he couldn’t shake thoughts about his character, like he wasn’t all the way back to himself.  “Nico, flash me that pretty smile of yours,”  Angel said, a smile of his own tugging at his lips as he tilted his head down to regard the boy; the errant flirting made him feel more like himself,  “it’ll make my day a little more bearable.”

Benny, sat next to Nico -- far enough to avoid being in the way of the headstock of his guitar, but close enough that it was explicitly clear that they weren’t strangers -- finally set down his book, after having been behind it for at least an hour without a sound. He laid it face down, split open on the page he was reading, and clicked his fingers together to call Toby’s head under his hands so he could pet the dog gently, glancing at Nico; it took his eyes a second to adjust to reality again, coming back to the world with a dreamy sort of smile offered to Nico.   “Are people feeling generous today?”  He asked, tilting his head. He had been out here with Nico a few times before, but never really understood the mechanics of it all. He thought it kind of nice that there was somewhere he could come for something soft and pretty to listen to during the day, and he tried to always offer a bit of his tips in exchange for Nico’s presence to read beside, or write beside. Today it was the former, although the little string backpack he had on him had three pens and a composition book inside if inspiration struck for the latter.  “This is my favorite way to read, have I told you that?”  He had, frequently, but somehow he always forgot.  “And write. Helps me focus on one specific train of thought when I’ve probably got, like --”  he screwed up his face,  “-- like fifty going usually. “