Ethan took his time with nibbling on his grilled sandwich. Being alone in a public space always made him super self conscious and he did his best to be as invisible as he could possibly be. He was currently in his fly-on-the-wall state, listening to the chatter of the other customers, wondering if any of them had extra earplugs and thinking about how he could find out if he was an outgoing, charismatic, social sort of creature. People sometimes said 'fake it until you make it' but he had tried to fake it and it had come off as awkward and he'd felt like a creeper. The only social situations he seemed to be okay with did not include groups of strangers, that was for sure.
Everyone seemed paired up or enclosed in groups at the bar and Ethan couldn't help but daydream about someone he recognize walking in there and joining him. He played it out in his head. Hey! What are you doing here? Oh me? I'm caught in the storm too, I had no idea you'd be in Indiana! It was as far fetched as him joining the strangers, everyone he knew was far away and that made the situation even lonelier.
He left half the sandwich untouched, nudging the plate away before clutching his glass of soda with both hands. He was still doing his invisible act and trying to hear what people around him were talking about when a lone figure entered the room and headed straight for the bar, taking a seat there. Ethan always associated people who sat at the bar with confidence, they were so exposed with their backs to the rest of the room, like they didn't have a worry in the world. Ethan admired that, he'd feel fidgety there, unless he had someone he trusted by his side. Even then it would feel wrong in a way, too vulnerable.
He finished his Sprite, then left his safe place to go back to the bar to get a glass of water and maybe talk to that person standing there. It all really depended on the vibe he'd get from the man. Some people were entirely unapproachable, hostile without even trying to be. In Ethan's world, it sometimes felt like most people gave off that vibe of 'Don't talk to me'.
"A glass of water, please," he told the bar man, leaving enough space between himself and Charles to be polite, but not too much that he couldn't strike up a conversation if it seemed doable. He didn't sit down, of course, making do with standing behind the bar stools and idly tapping his fingers on the bar.