She wished she had the luxury of rambling. Vanessa recalled how comforting the sound of one's own voice was, something to fill uncomfortable silences. When posed with the question of whether she was telepathic, and if she was overhearing any inappropriate thoughts she might be having, Vanessa smiled slightly, her arms cradling the art supplies against her full chest almost instinctively - perhaps to ward off any mental commentary he might be having about that particular area of her body. In her experience, it was usually what guys took the most interest in.
Vanessa pursed her lips, eyes turning skyward for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. It was a bit strange to explain at times - telepathy in and of itself was an oversimplification.
Not exactly. It's more that I'm able to allow you to read mine. Which is helpful, because I don't speak.
Shifting the things in her arms, she held out her hand, small and delicate, her nails self-manicured and painted a dark, metallic purple. She shook his hand warmly. There was something about him that reeked of newness, just out of limbo, and it endeared him to her. Vanessa remembered what that was like, how alienating and lonely it was. Loneliness was her default setting setting, but she knew for others it was a far more bitter pill to swallow. Any time she could be nice she was, because it was so much better than the alternative.
I'm Vanessa. Don't worry about the rambling. You're new, aren't you? Her head cocked, curiously.