HARPER
Harper is at first confused what Maea means by her words, his open-mindedness still no match for a lifetime in a different world. When he realizes, his mouth opens in a thoughtful expression before he responds. "Where I come from, surety isn't necessarily needed. People who have a mutual interest will go on dates: out to eat alone, or a walk along the beach. Getting to know one another. And if you're a good match you continue on into dedication to each other, or you mutually call it off. If she wanted to try that with me I'd be happy to say yes, but she already seemed so overwhelmed flirting at the bar. I'd rather she be the one to set the pace." Calloused hands dig into the same, making little indents and scooping up a few handfuls to let them run idly through his fingers. It's a pleasant sensation. "But don't worry, I don't go into anything even remotely close to love without being sure." The ever-present light in his blue eyes dims, and he turns his gaze away from Maea to try and conceal it. Many have turned themselves away from him due to his slow nature and trauma, and while it hurts he tries not to let it linger and make him self-conscious, with varying degrees of success.
It's easy for a soul as joyous as his to lock the darkness away and focus on his companion's plight, the anecdote she shares and the unfairness of it all. "You could try a full body swimsuit? Then you'd only have to protect your hands and face," he suggests kindly, hoping he's not overstepping his boundaries by assuming she hasn't already tried such things. Laughing when she tosses sand at him and using one of his partial handfuls to do the same in harmless retaliation. "I am too cruel and apathetic for such empathy!" Harper crows dramatically in response, flopping backwards spread-eagle into the sand.
It's easy for a soul as joyous as his to lock the darkness away and focus on his companion's plight, the anecdote she shares and the unfairness of it all. "You could try a full body swimsuit? Then you'd only have to protect your hands and face," he suggests kindly, hoping he's not overstepping his boundaries by assuming she hasn't already tried such things. Laughing when she tosses sand at him and using one of his partial handfuls to do the same in harmless retaliation. "I am too cruel and apathetic for such empathy!" Harper crows dramatically in response, flopping backwards spread-eagle into the sand.
if brokenness is a form of art
I must be a poster child prodigy
I must be a poster child prodigy
