[Well, shoot. He moves over quickly, leaving a spot for her to snag beside him as he fidgets with the zipper on his front backpack pouch. Looking at the tram's route, it looks like it's gonna take another fifteen minutes to get back home — which means he's doomed, really. He tries not to let his mind wander back to what Tony told him, but it's so hard. He could not/i> tell what happened at home. He couldn't. It would make things awful here for the Guardians, and he — they didn't deserve that.
He bites his lip and sits patiently, watching out the opposite window with his pack still in his arms.
Not saying anything isn't usual for him, though, is it? He struggles for a topic.]
no subject
He bites his lip and sits patiently, watching out the opposite window with his pack still in his arms.
Not saying anything isn't usual for him, though, is it? He struggles for a topic.]
Um... What're you doing out here this late?