Cavan Darling (darling_boy) wrote in blood_red_sky, @ 2011-09-21 12:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | cavan darling, molly carpenter |
Calmly (Open)
Cavan sat at the counter in the diner, happier here at the very end of it than he would have been in one of the booths. Here he didn't get glared at for taking up so much space for so long. He'd been in plenty of places like this over his lifetime and had learned that the less space you took up, the more people ignored you.
The book he was reading sat in his hands, and one of his knees was braced against the counter. The head waitress had scolded him for this sitting position a couple of times. Bad for his back, rude. But she'd stopped when she realized he just wasn't going to sit normally. She came by and refilled his coffee every 20 minutes or so, and looked at him in the way that middle aged women often looked at boys like him. With a wistful longing that she could be that young again. Be sitting with him. He smiled at her about every other visit to endear her further so he could stay longer.
He watched plenty of people walk in and out, having their meals quickly and speeding off to whatever their next destination was. This was the part of life that he enjoyed most. Well. Maybe second most. Watching people. Getting to know them through their movements. Guessing at what they might do with the rest of their day when he wasn't there to see. Picking one out, possibly.
Cavan looked up from his reading to watch another group leave. Elderly. Not to his tastes. But they all seemed so happy. Despite their horrible age and their withering bodies, they seemed to him to be carefree. He didn't understand that at all. One of them could drop dead just trying to pick up dropped keys, and apparently they didn't care. He shook his head and turned back to his book. Crime in the 17th Century.