Shopping, Spending, Scarves~ [Atticus]

[Jason Minas]

There was no feeling quite like that of a cosy shop with its warm heating, muted lighting and rows upon rows of merchandise and clothes, when the outside world was wintry dark. Chilly gusts of wind whipped his green scarf out of its folds, tousled his neat brown locks, and turned his cheeks rosy. Shopping ventures were fun, a real treat, even if he took them solo... He didn't mind being alone, and highly doubted he'd ever find another guy who would willingly join him. Shopping with girls was fine, too, but it made him look even more out-of-place; it chipped away at his dignity. There was a difference between mindlessly following the newest fashion fads and engaging your own unique style.

He liked the variety and chic styles at the Jynx boutique, but... that place was almost too girly for him. He definitely thought he looked out of place there. That left him to look into the slightly less fancy American Braviary. Eh, it was better than nothing, and some of the stuff here was cheaper, too. Only carrying a couple of small bags - on the weekends, Jason spent the allowance his parents sent him not only on clothes, but on books, shoes, knick-knacks, and various others - he ducked into the store, a cold surge of air accompanying him. Sweet relief! He had never really liked the cold - give him warm sunshine any day. The only plus side was that it gave him an excuse to dress up, pad his wardrobe, the works. Jackets and boots, gloves and scarves~ only in wintry weather could he wear them all.

Barely taller than the racks of clothes, he wound his way through the store, ignoring the more mediocre selections. He hunted down the accessories; he only had enough money left for one, maybe two bargains. He rummaged through the hats and watches, belts and ties, but his attention was drawn to the selection of scarves available, one in particular - a faintly patterned crimson specimen he normally wouldn't have liked, but this one was just right. He brushed slender fingers over the woollen blend and held it up against his throat, falling in love instantly.

And when he saw the price tag, his heart broke.

Maybe it would still be here next week when he returned. There was no other one like it. What were the chances of that, though? He started to pace, thinking it through, and then asked the shop assistant if there was more than one, and if there wasn't, if it could be set aside for him. The answers were no and no. Jason didn't have the heart to plead or beg; he slunk away, disappointed with the woman's attitude.

He was about to step out of the store when he realised he'd seen someone in there and registered a faint twitch of recognition. Hmm... what was his name? Atticus, wasn't it? Atticus Sandford? Jason doubled back, suddenly nervous; he hadn't gotten to know him properly, but had always surreptitiously eyed him with curiosity and interest, wondering what sort of a friend he could be, and if he could be anything more. Ahh, idle reveries. An idea occurred to him, but he had half a mind to just leave it be. At the last moment, he decided to just give in and ask him. If it worked well, he could hit two birds with one stone. Jason approached, his mouth going dry. Just a simple greeting... just a simple question... it'll be fine.

Um, hello? At first his voice was weak. Despite his petite stature, he had a defined low-baritone voice, though that (and his southern English accent) were warped by nerves. Excuse me... Atticus, isn't it?

[Atticus Sanford]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 550px; border: 10px solid #66654a; background: #fdf701; color: d4cf00; vertical-align: top; text-align: justify; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: -2px; padding: 5px; line-height: 15px; font-weight: bolder; ] Eyes are feeling heavy but they never seem to close. The fan blades on the ceiling spin but the air is never cold. And even though you are next to me I still feel so alone. I just can't give you anything for you to call your own. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. Something I've been keeping locked away behind my lips. I can feel it breaking free with each and every kiss. I couldn't bear to hurt you but it's all so different now. Things that I was sure of, they have filled me up with doubt. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. How am I supposed to feel about the things I've done? I don't know if I should stay or turn around and run. I know that I hurt you, things will never be the same. The only love I ever knew, I threw it all away. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Breathing by Yellowcard

[atrb=style, opacity: 0.8][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 360px; margin-top: -500px; z-index: 1; position: relative, bTable][atrb=style,border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.6; background: #ffffff; ][style=font-family: Helvetica; color: #5e5858; height: 300px;overflow: -moz-scrollbars-vertical;overflow-y: auto; padding-right: 10px; font-family: Helvetica; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; ]How many times had he been through here now? At least three, maybe more. He sighed, watching as he breath dissipated in the cold air. Why didn't Pallet have any indoor malls? It would make it far more convenient for him to browse various shops without aggravating his sensitive lungs. The stores always updated their inventory at least once a week, and, despite the ever-changing styles that lined the shelves, he rarely ever found something that he liked though the small plastic bag in his hand may have said otherwise. It was pink in color with the words 'thank you!' written on both sides in white. Atticus made no attempt to hide it despite the odd looks people sent him. The Jynx Boutique had recently gotten some new hair clips and jeweled tiaras - things that his younger sister Mary would love, no doubt. So, him being the good big brother and all, he had decided to brave the pink store and purchase a butterfly hair clip for her. He scoffed at the memory of the cashier who had asked if he was buying it for a girlfriend. Girlfriend, yeah right. What was it with people and assumptions? He shrugged to himself as an outward answer for an internal question. One more store then he'd head back to the high school. The entrance to the American Braviary was under a block away, but the large windows displaying their newest items had already begun. Atticus glanced at a couple of them before continuing on. Not even ten seconds later, he had already backtracked to do a double take. Displayed on one of the standing mannequins was a black scarf with thin bands of color running across the width of it. Intrigued, he stepped closer to the glass. Curiosity got the better of him, and he hurried into the store. His legs carried him over to the main wall of accessories. Just past that was a small section of scarves - his usual spot. If memory served him correctly, he had about fifteen left after his purchase for Mary. Since the scarf was new, he assumed that it would be out of his financial reach for the time being. But if it was really nice, he may just have to put it on hold. It was easy to find the scarf he was looking for. There was nothing particularly special about it except for the fact that it was mostly made of wool with just enough cotton to keep it from being scratchy. However, as he had predicted, it was more than he had on him, but not by much. "Ah well," he breathed, bringing his fingers to the black and gray striped scarf already around his neck. He reached out for the other scarf again to compare the weaves of the two scarves but paused as a voice cut in. "Um, hello?" the voice said. "Excuse me... Atticus, is it?" He dully noted that the voice didn't have nearly as much of an accent as most of the other citizens of Pallet had to his ears. His hand dropped back down to his side as he turned around. As he set eyes on the young man before him, he began wracking his brain to match a name to the face. Hm, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to know this person or not. Nonetheless, he put on a friendly smile. He certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him. "I'm terribly sorry, but I don't think we've met before, have we?" Well that seemed a bit rude... but he did say he was sorry. TAGGED : Jason Minas WORD COUNT : 604 NOTES : This'll be interesting indeed :3 CREDITS: TEMPLATE by JAWN of AA, OTE, DMB and TC[/style]

[Jason Minas]

Without even realising it, he'd held his breath as soon as he'd finished his wary interruption. Waiting to see how the other boy would respond to him, what he would say and what he would do. He isn't going to bite your head off, Jason... really. Get a grip.

The colour of awkwardness touched his cheeks anyway and his green gaze immediately hit the floor once Atticus looked at him and then smiled at him. He perked up a little at the sound of his voice, distracted from any possible rudeness in his response, and then remembered another fact he'd picked up on indirectly: he was from England too, wasn't he?

"Uhm, no, we haven't. I'm Jason - Jason Minas. Sophomore, and my major's in the Science and Technology department. You're the same, aren't you? I've seen you around the place." He hoped to goodness his assumption was correct. He did sometimes cross paths with him in the same dorm building and in the Celadon Wing. He clasped his hands behind his back, a habit formed from the fact he fidgeted when he was nervous (as if the rest of his timid demeanour didn't give it away). This prevented him from consciously realising it'd be polite to offer a handshake... or something.

"Sorry to disturb you. I just, I... there is something I want, some help - a favour - and since I saw you in here and you aren't a complete stranger, well..." He shrugged and stopped rambling there, knowing that if he didn't shut up he would quickly turn this awkward. He wasn't gauche, no... he was just painfully bashful. (Especially around good-looking boys that rumour told might play for the other team. Jason didn't spread gossip, but he sure liked eavesdropping on it.)

[Atticus Sanford]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 550px; border: 10px solid #66654a; background: #fdf701; color: d4cf00; vertical-align: top; text-align: justify; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: -2px; padding: 5px; line-height: 15px; font-weight: bolder; ] Eyes are feeling heavy but they never seem to close. The fan blades on the ceiling spin but the air is never cold. And even though you are next to me I still feel so alone. I just can't give you anything for you to call your own. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. Something I've been keeping locked away behind my lips. I can feel it breaking free with each and every kiss. I couldn't bear to hurt you but it's all so different now. Things that I was sure of, they have filled me up with doubt. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. How am I supposed to feel about the things I've done? I don't know if I should stay or turn around and run. I know that I hurt you, things will never be the same. The only love I ever knew, I threw it all away. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Breathing by Yellowcard

[atrb=style, opacity: 0.8][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 360px; margin-top: -500px; z-index: 1; position: relative, bTable][atrb=style,border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.6; background: #ffffff; ][style=font-family: Helvetica; color: #5e5858; height: 300px;overflow: -moz-scrollbars-vertical;overflow-y: auto; padding-right: 10px; font-family: Helvetica; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; ]Atticus blinked a couple times, unsure of how to take the sudden approach. Part of him thought he should be flattered in some way or another. After all, a stranger, at least to him, had initiated a conversation first. There was a moment of silence, and Atticus took the chance to look over his peer. The other boy was shorter than himself, maybe by about six or seven inches. His hair was on the darker side, at least, in comparison to his own. Maybe it was more vanilla-hazelnut tea colored. He couldn't help but eye the green scarf wrapped around the other's neck. It looked soft. He almost reached out to touch it. Almost. There was no denying that a good scarf was a weakness of his. He wasn't quite sure just where the fascination of them came from. Maybe it had something to do with the all boy boarding school he once went to. There had always been a group of boys there who figured they were the cream of the crop. At one point, he had harbored a crush on one of them, and, on a particularly cold day, he had worn a scarf. That very same day, the group of boys, including his interest, had proceeded to push him around and tug on his scarf, all the while mocking him and how he looked in it. Oddly enough, the action didn't do much to dampen his adoration for scarves. In fact, it probably encouraged it even further. Maybe it was because he liked attention, especially from someone he fancied, even if it wasn't the best attention. He drew himself from his thoughts as the other introduced himself. Jason. He mused for a moment, running the name through his head. It didn't sound familiar. Then again, he had just said that they hadn't met before, so that was to be expected. As Jason continued on about how they were studying in the same field - science and technology - he found himself oddly intrigued. Did people talk about him, or did Jason specifically look into finding information about him? Either way, he felt flattered. ""Well it's nice to meet you, Jason. I don't think I have to introduce myself," he chuckled. As color bloomed Jason's cheeks, his interest in the other sophomore rose. "Sorry to disturb you. I just, I... there is something I want, some help - a favour - and since I saw you in here and you aren't a complete stranger, well..." Jason said. At this, Atticus's mind immediately went to the gutter, but he didn't voice it. Instead he simply offered another smile accompanied with another light chuckle. "Nah, you're not disturbing me," he began, "What can I help with?" After all, he was not going to turn down the request of someone who had so quickly gained his interest. TAGGED : Jason Minas WORD COUNT : 476 NOTES : --- CREDITS: TEMPLATE by JAWN of AA, OTE, DMB and TC[/style]

[Jason Minas]

In turn, Jason took note of the dark striped scarf around Atticus' neck, as well as the fact he seemed to have been perusing the scarves on sale. Hmm, what could it mean? It might mean absolutely nothing. He didn't have to immediately jump to the conclusion that any male wearing a scarf was, well... you know. In winter time, plenty of boys wore scarves; at such freezing temperatures, they were a requirement, not a fashion accessory... unless you were happy with the sensation of your neck and face being so frozen that your head would fall off.

The answer he got wasn't a clear 'yes, that's right', but it was good enough for him. Clarification was all he needed. So this was Atticus Sanford, a sophomore in Science & Technology. "Uhh... eheh, yeah..." Jason mumbled sheepishly. I'm not a stalker, I swear! he wanted to add. The short, quiet boy often blended into the background, and though while at school, he rarely spoke up - only if he had a question for the teacher or something important to explain to a classmate or friend, he picked up on snippets of information here and there about his peers. Observing their patterns and routines, overhearing others' comments about them... The observant youth was always quick to hoard information, especially about other boys his age.

... Oops. It occurred to him a few seconds too late that what he'd said could be taken the wrong way. Bugger! Why did that always happen? Innuendos always sneaked into his speech, accidentally and... sometimes intentionally. This time, it was the former. He weakly tried to force away his shyness - no more blushing, no more 'uhm'ing and 'erh'ing, damn it - and answer the question, his green eyes bright as he looked the other in the eye.

"Well, you see," he embarked, a little more confident than he'd been to start off with, "I was in here just before, and there was a... a scarf I really, really wanted... it was the last one..." He held up a hand and broke off mid-sentence to pace over to the other side of the scarves section, picking up and unfolding the plush, perfectly woven dark-pink fabric.

"Normally, I don't go for colours like these," he admitted on his return, "but a little variation is always nice, and I'm already attached to it." He winced, dearly hoping he wasn't being silently mocked for being so fond of, well... a crimson piece of wool. But from his perspective, this was art. Art that would really complement the rosiness in his fair complexion and offset the normally muted, earthy and green tones he wore. "I don't have enough money on me, though. I was wondering if you might have any cash to spare... and I'd pay you back as soon as I can, of course. I need ten more pounds - I mean, dollars, dollars." He still hadn't shaken off the habit of calling the currency 'pounds'. It might take him a few more months or years to fully adjust to the American way of naming and doing things.

"If you don't have the money or don't want to lend me any, that's fine," Jason added hastily. "It won't be the end of the world, heh. It's just one scarf..." Was he going a bit too far, approaching and asking a near-stranger for a loan, just because they happened to attend the same high school and were in the same grade and general department? Sigh. It would mean so much to him if Atticus agreed, but even so, Jason felt terribly awkward asking.

[Atticus Sanford]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 550px; border: 10px solid #66654a; background: #fdf701; color: d4cf00; vertical-align: top; text-align: justify; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: -2px; padding: 5px; line-height: 15px; font-weight: bolder; ] Eyes are feeling heavy but they never seem to close. The fan blades on the ceiling spin but the air is never cold. And even though you are next to me I still feel so alone. I just can't give you anything for you to call your own. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. Something I've been keeping locked away behind my lips. I can feel it breaking free with each and every kiss. I couldn't bear to hurt you but it's all so different now. Things that I was sure of, they have filled me up with doubt. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. How am I supposed to feel about the things I've done? I don't know if I should stay or turn around and run. I know that I hurt you, things will never be the same. The only love I ever knew, I threw it all away. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Breathing by Yellowcard

[atrb=style, opacity: 0.8][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 360px; margin-top: -500px; z-index: 1; position: relative, bTable][atrb=style,border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.6; background: #ffffff; ][style=font-family: Helvetica; color: #5e5858; height: 300px;overflow: -moz-scrollbars-vertical;overflow-y: auto; padding-right: 10px; font-family: Helvetica; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; ]He listened intently, amused to find that Jason shared his adoration of scarves, though perhaps not to the same degree or for the same reasons. He watched as Jason paused to reach for the aforementioned article of clothing and was sincerely surprised at the choice of color. Either Jason was one of those guys who were secure enough with themselves to wear such a feminine color or... As Jason continued to explain that he didn't usually wear colors such as that, Atticus pushed the possibility to the back of his mind but not completely out of the way. But already attached to the scarf... Ha, he knew that feeling. His smile had dropped to a more neutral expression as he listened to Jason talk, but a somewhat sheepish, understanding smile tugged the corners of his lips upwards. He opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it as the other continued. He debated whether or not to lend a hand. This other person was a near-complete stranger to him. There were no preceding actions to vouch for his reliability. The logical thing would be for him to politely decline. However, against all logic, Atticus found himself hanging the plastic bag from the Jynx Boutique on one of the small bars that scarves usually hung on. He paused momentarily, taking notice of Jason's minor blunder. “From the Isles, too, huh?” he asked, his interest peaking. He tended not to think of peoples' origin. He kind of just assumed that everyone he met was born and raised in America. But now, here was someone who he had a somewhat unique trait in common with. He fished for his wallet in the back pocket of his pants. Upon opening it, he tucked a particular item further down in its small pocket to hide it from view. He'd have to wait anyway before he could purchase the scarf that had caught his eye. “II haven't heard currency referred to as pounds for a while now,” he admitted, making an attempt at small talk. He pulled out two crisp fives and offered them. They went to the same school (though that wasn't a surprise as it was the only high school nearby), so, if anything, there was always the chance he'd see him around, right? Considering they were both sophomores and the names of who resided in each dorm was openly posted, Atticus figured that it wouldn't be too much of a risk. It wasn't like he was giving money to some beggar on the street that he probably wouldn't see again. “Bollocks. Nothing beats a good scarf in the winter,” he joked. Well... I'm sure I could name a couple things that take precedence, he mentally added. TAGGED : Jason Minas WORD COUNT : 453 NOTES : --- CREDITS: TEMPLATE by JAWN of AA, OTE, DMB and TC[/style]

[Jason Minas]

Jason was hanging onto Atticus' every movement and expression, desperate to see if anything in his body language gave away his intents. He hadn't yet focused on the pink bag he was holding, only noticing it properly when it was lifted and hung temporarily on a scarf-hanger. Without meaning to, he stared at it a little, unknowingly seizing upon the same assumption as the shop clerk in Jynx Boutique. He didn't even consider the possibility Atticus had a younger sister. Does he have a girlfriend? Why else would he have bought something from there? His bubble didn't burst, but it deflated a little.

"Huh? Oh, yes." Smiling on the outside, he shook his mind away from that train of thought; there was time for that later. Now it seemed he'd accidentally brought forth some common ground for light discussion. In an odd way, it was heartening to know he wasn't alone here; he wasn't the only one in the town or at the school who was from the UK. "I'm a boring old Londoner. I haven't been here very long... A lot of things are different here in America, though... Little things, but they add up."

He'd still been watching Atticus' movements while he talked, daring to be hopeful when the boy got his wallet out. And when the money was offered to him... he thought he might faint from delight. Relief and gratitude rushed through him. He really did it! He's really lending me money! Yay! Oh, he could practically hug him right now. But he didn't - only barely - knowing it was not the social norm to tackle a stranger in a hug, even if they had just agreed to lend him some cash. A grin suddenly bloomed on his face - he was practically glowing with appreciation and joy - and he gave a little skip and clap.

"You've got that right," he agreed happily, reaching out gingerly to take the two notes and fold them in his hand. His other hand was still clutching the pink scarf close. "Thank you so, so much. This is really generous of you..." He ducked his head bashfully and gave a nervous chuckle. "I hope I haven't weirded you out or anything. But yeah, uhm, it's good to get to know you a little. I'll get the money back to you as soon as I can. Would you like my number, in case you need to catch up with me...?

Oops. His intents were upright and honest, but from a different viewpoint, words like that could be taken as an offer to hook up. He wasn't thinking that far ahead, but he'd always idly wondered if he should acquaint himself with Atticus and see if anything came of it. Another suggestion was drifting around in his head, but he'd wait to see before bringing it up. He'd had luck so far, but if Atticus wasn't weirded out now, that didn't mean he couldn't easily be weirded out if Jason went any further with his innocent suggestions.

(( Happy Jason is happy. xD ))

[Atticus Sanford]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 460px; height: 550px; border: 10px solid #66654a; background: #fdf701; color: d4cf00; vertical-align: top; text-align: justify; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: -2px; padding: 5px; line-height: 15px; font-weight: bolder; ] Eyes are feeling heavy but they never seem to close. The fan blades on the ceiling spin but the air is never cold. And even though you are next to me I still feel so alone. I just can't give you anything for you to call your own. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. Something I've been keeping locked away behind my lips. I can feel it breaking free with each and every kiss. I couldn't bear to hurt you but it's all so different now. Things that I was sure of, they have filled me up with doubt. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. How am I supposed to feel about the things I've done? I don't know if I should stay or turn around and run. I know that I hurt you, things will never be the same. The only love I ever knew, I threw it all away. And I can feel you breathing. And it's keeping me awake. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Can you feel it beating? My heart's sinking like a weight. I can feel you breathing. It's keeping me awake. Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. Breathing by Yellowcard

[atrb=style, opacity: 0.8][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style][style=border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 5px; background: #ffffff; width: 100px; height: 100px; float: left][/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 360px; margin-top: -500px; z-index: 1; position: relative, bTable][atrb=style,border: 5px double #bdbdbd; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.6; background: #ffffff; ][style=font-family: Helvetica; color: #5e5858; height: 300px;overflow: -moz-scrollbars-vertical;overflow-y: auto; padding-right: 10px; font-family: Helvetica; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; ]He followed Jason's line of sight, and, for a split second, he panicked. However, it subsided rather quickly as he parted his lips tp speak. “For my sister,” he confirmed. Odd, what had compelled him to say that? There was the slightest nagging feeling, though, that told him that it was the right move. In all honestly, he was beginning to question the shade of pink as well as Jason's reasoning. God, sometimes, he really wished that questions were answered in any normal introduction. A simple “Hey, my name is blank, and I'm straight,” would suffice. Or maybe if people wore certain colors. Nah, scratch that. Just stick with the introduction... or a name tag. He toyed with the thought, wondering if there were any consequences if the world was like that. Well he'd like it. No matter. He didn't doubt that Jason would look good in the scarf, but the exact hue of it was beginning to bug him. He dropped his hand as Jason took the two fives. A chuckle passed his lips as Jason commented about being a 'boring old Londoner.' “Well, after a year or so, you kind of get used to the little things. How long you been here?” Amusement found its way onto Atticus's face as Jason's reaction unfolded in front of him. He couldn't help but internally compare Jason to his sister, Mary. It wasn't a bad thing, and he most certainly wouldn't mind seeing the reaction again. He mused for a moment, wondering if a spark might ignite something. But part of him didn't want to take the risk. At the same time... he had a good reason, right? Maybe he'd wait a bit. ""Thank you so, so much. This is really generous of you..." He shrugged it off with a simple, "Yeah, no problem." "I hope I haven't weirded you out or anything. But yeah, uhm, it's good to get to know you a little. I'll get the money back to you as soon as I can. Would you like my number, in case you need to catch up with me...?" Oh boy, surprises were around every corner, weren't they? So now did that make him the one being pursued? Did this mean...? He was over thinking this. However, as he replied, he found that it was his turn to stumble his own words. "Uh, y-yeah, that'd be, uh, good," he mentally cursed his voice for wimping out on him at the last minute. He cleared his throat to make a second, better attempt at covering up his slip of the tongue. "Sorry, yeah." Atticus tugged his phone from his pocket and unlocked it. "Did you want mine, too?" TAGGED : Jason Minas WORD COUNT : 449 NOTES : Yay for the awkward uneasiness! XD CREDITS: TEMPLATE by JAWN of AA, OTE, DMB and TC[/style]