[The Capital Mall: Atticus & Janus]
Atticus couldn't remember the last time he went to the mall. Probably with his mother. She'd liked circling the racks at Macy's while he sat on some scratchy rug and against a pillar, book in his hands and time slipping. Had never walked around the stores with her, but had never refused to go shopping with her. That was a long time ago. Hadn't been to a mall since. In New York, he'd ordered everything. Here, he ordered everything. Hadn't even considered finding out where the mall in the Capital was. Drove into the city every single day, and had never even considered it.
But Atticus was at the mall now. His Lyft driver had dropped him off at the entrance of the food court, and Atticus stood there a few seconds. Wondered how the modern American mall differed from the one of his youth. Wondered if he wanted the memories obliterated by new ones. Didn't have a book in his hand, but did have his messenger bag, old leather and worn, strapped across his chest and resting against his hip. In fact, he looked like he always did. Had come from teaching a class, so he was clean shaved, but that was the only improvement. Jeans were old, jacket was worn soft as was the sweater he wore over a white undershirt. Curls were everywhere.
Didn't know what to expect from Janus. Knew what he would see, but didn't know what to expect. Took a deep breath and walked in, willing the wolf to be calm if things didn't match up as they often didn't recently.
Found him almost immediately. Janus. Walked up behind him, assuming Janus would probably sense him approaching, and he reached over Janus' shoulder to attempt to pluck up that Cinnabon from the open box. Sniffed. "Smell right today," he said, dropping into a chair at that table and immediately slouching into a lazy sprawl of spread knees and thighs and entitled male. Atticus, as per usual, smelled of soap and cigarettes and old book dust.