Rosalie is sitting at the bar, and watches the young man as he gets his coffee.
She kind of wants to talk to him. She's been sitting here for quite a while and hasn't talked to anyone, and she feels kind of silly. The e-reader he's holding would be a perfect topic for conversation; she's aware of things like that being developed during her time, but she's never seen one before and she'd love to know what kind of features it has.
...But that involves starting up the conversation. Rosalie simply watches him at first, wondering if he'll glance her way. Maybe then she'll say hello?
He does, in fact, glance her way! It's not unfriendly or anything.
. . . It's not friendly per se either, nor much of anything else but an impassive glance, the sort that might well be by chance. (It might indeed be; on the other hand, Trowa is pretty sensitive to when he's being watched.)
Rosalie chickens out. She looks away-- maybe a little too quickly to be normal-- and runs one hand through her hair.
She's not good a starting conversations with strangers. She's done it maybe once or twice within a couple of decades, really. She clears her throat, but still fails to look at him.
Especially since he hasn't seen her before. There are a few possible reasons for a look like that, including just plain shyness; not enough evidence to judge which, at the moment.
Trowa considers being helpful. Because he's Trowa, he opts to give it a minute before he does, and carry on with his newly acquired coffee towards a table.
It is, at least, a path that'll take him not too far from her seat.
Comments 76
She kind of wants to talk to him. She's been sitting here for quite a while and hasn't talked to anyone, and she feels kind of silly. The e-reader he's holding would be a perfect topic for conversation; she's aware of things like that being developed during her time, but she's never seen one before and she'd love to know what kind of features it has.
...But that involves starting up the conversation. Rosalie simply watches him at first, wondering if he'll glance her way. Maybe then she'll say hello?
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. . . It's not friendly per se either, nor much of anything else but an impassive glance, the sort that might well be by chance. (It might indeed be; on the other hand, Trowa is pretty sensitive to when he's being watched.)
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She's not good a starting conversations with strangers. She's done it maybe once or twice within a couple of decades, really. She clears her throat, but still fails to look at him.
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Especially since he hasn't seen her before. There are a few possible reasons for a look like that, including just plain shyness; not enough evidence to judge which, at the moment.
Trowa considers being helpful. Because he's Trowa, he opts to give it a minute before he does, and carry on with his newly acquired coffee towards a table.
It is, at least, a path that'll take him not too far from her seat.
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Certainly not.
Accordingly, Trowa is continuing on towards the bar, unruffled.
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Though Cass' grin is so wide it's becoming almost painful at this point.
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. . . Trowa has quite a lot of patience for seeing how long Cass feels like keeping this up. For the record.
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