and it's a dark secret you carry with you
It's a typical Sunday at the coffee shop. Good typical, that is; no firebombs or hostage situations. In fact, the worst thing to happen so far is that some guy who's been watching the building just turned to walk away and wound up running into a teenager.
"Watch it, buddy," the man snarls.
Gabe holds his hands up apologetically. "Sorry-" His voice breaking off as he looks the other man in the eyes.
(knife to the gut
no, the heart
bullet in the brain
quick, clean
oh yes)
"Hey!" It's the shout that breaks him out of those thoughts. Not completely, just... not as immediate. "You got a problem with me or something?"
How long had he been standing there, staring? Too long, definitely.
"...ah, no. No problem... sorry. 'M sorry," he manages to say before moving as quickly as he can, going into the shop and claiming the first empty booth he can find. If that happens to be as far from the entry as possible, what of it?
"Watch it, buddy," the man snarls.
Gabe holds his hands up apologetically. "Sorry-" His voice breaking off as he looks the other man in the eyes.
(knife to the gut
no, the heart
bullet in the brain
quick, clean
oh yes)
"Hey!" It's the shout that breaks him out of those thoughts. Not completely, just... not as immediate. "You got a problem with me or something?"
How long had he been standing there, staring? Too long, definitely.
"...ah, no. No problem... sorry. 'M sorry," he manages to say before moving as quickly as he can, going into the shop and claiming the first empty booth he can find. If that happens to be as far from the entry as possible, what of it?