Sammy's been wandering around the compound for a good hour, trying to find something that'll help all of this make sense to him. In the end he hadn't had much luck, although the sandwiches he'd found in the kitchen had been a comfort, if nothing else. There seemed to be a lot to be done - he'd gotten his name added to the list of inhabitants, and listened as they'd told him about the housing request process, and where he could find something to replace his torn shirt, and even gotten the cut on his forehead bandaged up - but right now he couldn't muster the ambition to get to any of it. Instead, he was standing in the doorway to the rec room, trying to figure out if a book would help, or make him more thoughtful than he wants to be right now.
He only realized how long he'd been standing there when the room's only inhabitant, a pretty redhead who'd been engrossed in her novel, spoke to him. A little embarrassed that his discombobulated state was so obvious, he looked at his shoes for a second before answering. "Oh, no, I'm fine-" he started, before realizing that it'd probably be better to take her up on it than to keep standing there like some kind of imbecile. "Actually," he said, taking a few steps into the room, "yeah, sitting's probably a good plan. Thanks."
"Well, take your pick. This place is dead today." She brushes her hand lightly against his arm before leading him over to one of the chairs near hers by the bookshelf, not looking back to check if he's following.
She takes her seat again, resting her hand discreetly over the spine of her book, and smiles up at him.
"As of this afternoon," Sammy said, settling into one of the chairs she'd indicated. "Still tryin' to find my feet, I guess." Typical for most people, he'd think, although surely there were a few who slipped into this kind of lifestyle as comfortably as anything. Tracy, for instance; Sam didn't think that this place would've put him out for more than a couple minutes at most. Just show the man where he can exchange his tux for some board shorts and a visor, and he'd be all set. "You been here long yourself?" So far he'd run into people that had been here for weeks, and others who'd been living and thriving here for years.
"God, it's going on a month now." Her eyes widen, not quite intentionally; it doesn't seem like more than a day or two, it never has since she got here, and it's still startling to remember otherwise.
Enough empty time on her hands, and the whole world could disappear.
"The time runs away with you after a while. Believe me."
He only realized how long he'd been standing there when the room's only inhabitant, a pretty redhead who'd been engrossed in her novel, spoke to him. A little embarrassed that his discombobulated state was so obvious, he looked at his shoes for a second before answering. "Oh, no, I'm fine-" he started, before realizing that it'd probably be better to take her up on it than to keep standing there like some kind of imbecile. "Actually," he said, taking a few steps into the room, "yeah, sitting's probably a good plan. Thanks."
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She takes her seat again, resting her hand discreetly over the spine of her book, and smiles up at him.
"So, am I right in assuming you're new here?"
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Enough empty time on her hands, and the whole world could disappear.
"The time runs away with you after a while. Believe me."
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