The man winced and Destiny laughed out a 'Sorry' that was somehow lacking in genuine apology but it was still gentle because there was nothing malicious about her. "Its a habit," Destiny said into the surface area of her coffee before taking another eye-opening sip in hopes of suppressing any yawns or crashing need for sleep. "Nick," a point of correction with eyes on him, fawn colored harmless. She didn't think he really took offense to being called Mister, but maybe it insinuated that he was old.
Or maybe he wanted the small-town charm illusion, the welcome home where everybody knew you by name. That happy American sitcom kind of life. Destiny could have told Nick that people knowing your name around some place as small as Repose wasn't always so good, but maybe that was just because her name tended to be tied to sex and tragedy. She didn't know, and she didn't like to think about things like that with any sense of permanence. In Destiny's mind, this was the climax of the story. This was where she, the heroine, struggled before ultimately ascending to a plain of joy and greatness.
"Oh, some people do. Some families have been here for generations, from what I can tell. But there's a lot of military too, and that makes for transplants. That's how my family ended up here." She had no apparent problem with being honest.
"I don't think you could call us a clan. I have a couple of brothers."