[ It's the kind of chatter he's used to when he's around a crowd of people like this; has heard it often enough at various stations they've docked at before. Old friends running into each other again after a long time, that sort of thing. He doesn't have much in the way of a frame of reference for it. Hasn't really ever had people to miss, is the thing.
But if he turned around and suddenly Holden, Naomi, Peaches were here — well. Shit. That would be something.
He glances at Kimiko's phone when she 'speaks' to him through it, nods again at the question. Supposes the nod could be for the mention of friendship, too.
It's once again the sort of thing he hadn't considered. He was gonna just keep on doing his thing here — whatever that looked like — and if he saw Kimiko again or not, it wasn't much of a consideration at all for him. But she brings it up, it's a thought she has, and he supposes he could try. Not the best at it, but he can try. ]
[ It's easier, hearing that. The unique uncertainty of the space between her bedroom and here feels a lot less stifling. Maybe she just isn't cut out for one-night stands. But he seems relaxed, and she can do the same. They have a few more drinks; not enough to unmoor her, but enough to make her feel as warm and golden as the tequila she decides she likes after all. And she smiles through them, and leaves before he does. She takes care of the bill, of course, squaring up inside the pub proper.
Before Kimiko goes, though, she leaves something on the table. A little illustration of her intent from earlier, visual shorthand the moment she got tired of typing, of pretending and fussing at typed English and needing her phone to bridge them. Two butter packets, face up, a centimetre or two between. Space left to spread out, to be themselves, to stretch and breathe and be unbothered— separate, maybe, but the same, and not alone.
There's that, and a little wave goodbye from the other side of the patio fencing, and then — whatever comes next, or doesn't. ]
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could wrap here or on your tag if you like!
But if he turned around and suddenly Holden, Naomi, Peaches were here — well. Shit. That would be something.
He glances at Kimiko's phone when she 'speaks' to him through it, nods again at the question. Supposes the nod could be for the mention of friendship, too.
It's once again the sort of thing he hadn't considered. He was gonna just keep on doing his thing here — whatever that looked like — and if he saw Kimiko again or not, it wasn't much of a consideration at all for him. But she brings it up, it's a thought she has, and he supposes he could try. Not the best at it, but he can try. ]
Yeah. I can do that.
🎀 wrapped!
Before Kimiko goes, though, she leaves something on the table. A little illustration of her intent from earlier, visual shorthand the moment she got tired of typing, of pretending and fussing at typed English and needing her phone to bridge them. Two butter packets, face up, a centimetre or two between. Space left to spread out, to be themselves, to stretch and breathe and be unbothered— separate, maybe, but the same, and not alone.
There's that, and a little wave goodbye from the other side of the patio fencing, and then — whatever comes next, or doesn't. ]