Harry Ryan has two first names (sybarite) wrote in rooms,
Re: Museum: Harry/Gwen
"I'm not thirty," he agreed. The hug hadn't been entirely unexpected, and he briefly wondered how he was meant to react to it. He hadn't seen the new Gwen, he'd been extremely determined not to see the new Gwen, and now she wasn't new Gwen at all… so he calculated that a hug was alright. This realization was delayed thanks to being just a little high, and he didn't quite hug her back. By the time he realized that he wanted to, Gwen was already rocking back on her heels.
He sucked on his straw and tried to stop staring at her. "I'm eighteen." A better late than never addendum. The timeline was strange, and he didn't think about his age very much because it felt all twisted up with worm holes and shit, but he knew that Gwen cared about little details.
She was really here. Like, really. Suddenly, he was really glad that he'd had the foresight to get high because if not, he would have surely been overcome with inopportune emotions. As it was, his bleary blue eyes were noted with a kind of sad happiness when he looked at her. He swallowed some of the frozen coffee sweetness, and it was a little difficult because his throat was tight just like it got all of the times when he thought about how she'd been taken away from him.
"Sorry," he said belatedly, forcing himself to look somewhere other than her. He settled on the ceiling. "So what do you need me to smuggle out of here?"