sam evans ( werewolf ) . (tamest) wrote in light_of_may, |
The strong smell of coffee was all that Sam could really take in to begin with, so powerful that he had to fight the urge to shake his head, an action that would have been all too animalistic -- all too wolfen -- for anyone to just overlook and accept as ordinary. Sam knew he was anything but ordinary, he'd had that point drilled him into him many times over the years, he was beneath that and he heard the little voices of mocking and disappointment in the back of his mind as he took a step back from the man, hands still held up slightly by way of extra apology.
You are not, he'd heard the other man say, quietly, so quietly, and there was no way for Sam to take that other than how it seemed, a dismissal of the apology that had a small knot of anxiety forming in his stomach, threatening to grow and take hold all too quickly. He should have been watching where he was going. He knew better. Always watch where you're going, get out of everyone's way, keep your head down. Simple, straightforward rules. Sam couldn't help but feel a little confused and conflicted when the man turned around and gave him that smile, asking if he was okay. Did he mean that? Or was the smile just a show? To what benefit? What could the man possibly get out of it?
Sam's mind was running a thousand miles a minute as he worked to form a response, which ended up being a simple and rather meek, "Yeah. I'm really sorry." More apologies never hurt. "Are you?" That was the more important thing. Sam wasn't the one who'd had hot coffee spilled all over him, and now that the man had turned around he could see that it really had gone all over him. That knot of anxiety doubled in size. "Does that hurt?"