Re: Bus stop: Misha & Lou
At the kid's age, Lou had been the kind to taunt the punch to coming on her own terms. All the ways she pissed off the world, it was written in skin-tone and features and there wasn't nothing Lou could do about it even if she were inclined, and she wasn't. The kid didn't have the square set of shoulders ready to get knocked down, which Lou would recognize plenty, but the tone in his voice, she did.
Lou was tired as hell of people. She still felt the fringe of guilt anytime she hovered too close to the memory of the rec center and the sound of people screaming, panic thick and salty in the air. But that was closed space and a bunch of idiots jammed in together, dry tinder kindled for a match. This was just ugly, plain and simple. That wasn't all the world was; she thought that, she was better off going back in.
"An accessory?" Lou glanced at the outward of the case and back up to the kid and her lips twitched. And a second later, the kid's assessment of the situation looked confirmed as one of the guys got tired of lurking and approached: broad, the kind of reaching out for the kid's shoulder as the other guy made through the space his buddy intended to create to make it to her.
Which was a dumbass move, given he'd get a lot more than he bargained for, but Lou was used to men being stupid as fuck.