Re: Webster's: Holly & Elijah
Holly wasn't the type of person to spring at anyone. He was low affect and a slow gait. His expression was blank, and his voice was low, but not loud. He wasn't the type of guy that lunged, and he didn't have the right demeanor for, you know, lunging. But he did look confused when Elijah asked after his name. It was muted confusion, right? As still water as everything else about the guy. "Which Holiday? Are you asking if I was named after a holiday?" he asked, because that was, like, the best he could come up with, you know, after a few seconds of consideration. "Billie Holiday. The singer? My mom was a big fan." He answered that question a lot, and it flowed like rote off his tongue.
Anyway, Holly walked back and away, to the counter and to count the till, so that Elijah could look for however long he wanted to. As previously mentioned, Holly wasn't in any kind of hurry, and his thoughts just flitted around, banking against gray matter like usual, as he looked deadpan and calm and still. He looked up when Elijah said he didn't shave so as to not cut something vital. Assumed that was a joke, and he shook his head. Holly couldn't grow any facial hair that wasn't sparse and fine. Noah, he suspected, could grow a beard like Elijah's without trying. "I think I'll risk cutting something vital," he said, failing all hipsters everywhere by not growing an appropriate beard for a lumbersexual look.
Glanced up every so often as the guy looked at the records, but mostly just counted money behind the counter. It was a good day, and there was a lot of credit and cash transactions. He kinda wished this was a nest egg for himself or something, but, yeah, he didn't begrudge Gramps' his money. So, unless Elijah spoke? Holly just counted. Counted and tried to ignore the perpetual buzz in his head.