[ As it turns out, he's scheduled a little later in the day, this time around. When he makes it to the library, there's no outwardly remarkable differences about him — maybe that there's no little green robot hot on his heels, or the sudden brightness of his expression, unaffected by some unseen weight he had no words to accurately convey. He may look a little older too, though he couldn't really tell anyone why. All in all, the world itself has disappeared from his shoulders.
And Banagher doesn't even know he had it there in the first place.
Making his way over to the desk, he balances himself on one of his palms to lean over and put his bag behind it, chatting away with another one of the staff. When he glances over his shoulder into the library, something gives him a pause.
Or rather, someone.
For a moment after he recognizes the girl as Lily, he stills, expression unreadable, but not exactly unkind. It's as if his demeanor suffers a dent just by seeing her, and he stops to say something to the lady at the desk, before hopping off the counter. Words flood his imagination, words reserved for what seems like some other life, now a distant flicker that races in his veins when he thinks there's nothing worth looking twice over. He does look twice. In fact, he does one better, and turns to approach her. It's the least he can do, when she understands the things he'd told himself not to hide from her, and he doesn't. One thing does ring in his mind, something he'd said of his own accord: Maybe we're not as far from one another as we think.
Meeting her halfway there isn't outside the realm of what he can still do. ]
Hey. ...Lily.
[ It's more of a tentative greeting than he's used to, but he has to start somewhere, when he's toeing the line he didn't even draw in the sand himself. ]
no subject
And Banagher doesn't even know he had it there in the first place.
Making his way over to the desk, he balances himself on one of his palms to lean over and put his bag behind it, chatting away with another one of the staff. When he glances over his shoulder into the library, something gives him a pause.
Or rather, someone.
For a moment after he recognizes the girl as Lily, he stills, expression unreadable, but not exactly unkind. It's as if his demeanor suffers a dent just by seeing her, and he stops to say something to the lady at the desk, before hopping off the counter. Words flood his imagination, words reserved for what seems like some other life, now a distant flicker that races in his veins when he thinks there's nothing worth looking twice over. He does look twice. In fact, he does one better, and turns to approach her. It's the least he can do, when she understands the things he'd told himself not to hide from her, and he doesn't. One thing does ring in his mind, something he'd said of his own accord: Maybe we're not as far from one another as we think.
Meeting her halfway there isn't outside the realm of what he can still do. ]
Hey. ...Lily.
[ It's more of a tentative greeting than he's used to, but he has to start somewhere, when he's toeing the line he didn't even draw in the sand himself. ]