Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Tristan T. Travers (alliterative) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Tristan's eyes moved from the spine of the book on his left to the woman who spoke in front of him, his head following a second behind. He took a moment to take in her face, his expression mild but open, curious. In his mind, he quickly overlaid the image over those he'd come across in the past, matching one up from his school days with relative ease. After all, they'd been in the same house, in the same year. They'd shared classes and a common room. They'd been prefects together. If he couldn't remember her, he'd have worried that this terrible sleeping business was having some kind of actual affect on his brain.

His mouth turned up in a smile, the smile reaching his eyes. "Hello, Cho," he said pleasantly, though in the back of his mind, as he thought of something pleasant, he warned himself to be careful, to remain steady. He'd had limited to no contact with most of the people he used to know before the war, and while he supposed it was with good reason, it still made him hesitant. He didn't know what to expect from those he did run into without first arranging to meet up with them. It was one reason why he hadn't reached out. Another had to do with the reaction of someone he'd thought of as a friend who proved otherwise. Still, he wasn't going to come off as wary, especially since he hadn't been doing anything wrong. Except maybe talking to himself just a little bit, but he saw that more as speaking his thoughts out loud since he hadn't really been having a conversation with himself.

"How're you?" he asked with honest interest as he brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. After all, they'd been friends. Why wouldn't he be interested in how she was? True, he had no delusions they'd be friends again, but he was nothing if not capable of being courtesy and even friendly.