Re: [bookshop: ren & elijah]
Didn't have a sense that shuttered off, like a power down. Wished he did, wished he could turn off, lower the volume, reduce: didn't work on himself. It was ironic: he wanted it and couldn't have it, didn't know if people wanted the heavy, blanketing weight of presence. Didn't notice the guy staring at a bar cloth like he expected it to jump. Was looking for a book, any book, a stack to take to the counter, talk about Paypal and setting up an account.
Except the guy was on the move.
Elijah skittered. No other word for it, sideways motion a little like a crab. His shoulders inched higher and his head bobbed upward with alarm as the guy circled the counter and walked toward him. It was an undignified kind of pulling together of limbs like a string being yanked taught and he moved backwards, counterpoint to the guy moving forwards. Distance, like a tuning knob being tweaked turned up and down the volume, and Elijah's eyes flickered on the set of the man's mouth, on the look in his eyes, on where his hands were. His hands.
"Just want a book," he said, a little helplessly, his voice strangulated. "Books. Coffee. Account, want an account."