l i a r s and t h i e v e s {Ezrabel}
Aug 18, 2014 3:57:41 GMT -5
Post by Python on Aug 18, 2014 3:57:41 GMT -5
E Z A B E L
Before long Ezra was withdrawing his hand into his lap like Ezabel had burned his fingertips with hot iron. ”You’re warmer now,” he said, voice smaller than it should’ve been. He was still using body temperature as an excuse, but Ezabel hardly noticed. He was focused more on how self-conscious his best friend appeared to be. He could try and conceal inner emotions behind cocky grins and a perky demeanor, but a soul speaks for itself. He watched Ezra with a curious eye as he played the previous events off like they were finished and forgotten, and insisted that he return to Salmon. They had known each other for so long, how did Ezra expect him to completely miss the picture? He was known for being a bit naïve, but he knew everything about his best friend. Well, not everything, but enough. Enough to see through this transparent act.
”If you're still hungry, stay and eat. I've got some left over. 'Sides you probably got some catching up to do right? Losta stories to tell your friends an' all."
You should take the leftovers to Salmon, he almost interjected, but he figured Ezra already had the creature taken care of when it came to scraps. He was pretty well fed for a homeless feline.
He didn’t understand – he didn’t want Ezra’s leftovers, nor did he want to do any catching up with his “friends.” The regulars at the soup kitchen could wait. They would be here every week, as would he, so he had plenty of chances to catch them at the right time and spread his social butterfly wings. Right now he just wanted to spend time with Ezra. Eight years without contact, thinking that Ezra was a corpse in the ground, and now that he was finally back he was leaving Ezabel alone before finishing his supper? He wanted to spend quality time with his lost best friend! He wanted to catch up with him, not with the people loitering in the soup kitchen. They were not top priority. They were specks compared to Ezra, as much as he hated to call them that.
He slouched at his table and watched Ezra walk out. Familiar faces were wandering with trays of food in their hands, but he didn’t seek them out. Instead, he grabbed his and Ezra’s trays and returned them to the cooks, purposely keeping his chin down to avoid making eye contact with the regulars. As much as he enjoyed their company, he wasn’t in the mood for socializing. Despite what Ezra claimed, he didn’t have stories to tell. All of his stories involved Ezra, including his time spent in District Ten as a volunteer for the drought disaster. How could he describe all of that without introducing them to him? It wouldn’t be the same without him there. No amount of animation and enthusiasm in his body language could convey how important he was without his presence. He couldn’t make them understand with emptiness beside him.
If Ezra wasn’t there at his side, it would just feel like it had for those eight years without him.
”If you're still hungry, stay and eat. I've got some left over. 'Sides you probably got some catching up to do right? Losta stories to tell your friends an' all."
You should take the leftovers to Salmon, he almost interjected, but he figured Ezra already had the creature taken care of when it came to scraps. He was pretty well fed for a homeless feline.
He didn’t understand – he didn’t want Ezra’s leftovers, nor did he want to do any catching up with his “friends.” The regulars at the soup kitchen could wait. They would be here every week, as would he, so he had plenty of chances to catch them at the right time and spread his social butterfly wings. Right now he just wanted to spend time with Ezra. Eight years without contact, thinking that Ezra was a corpse in the ground, and now that he was finally back he was leaving Ezabel alone before finishing his supper? He wanted to spend quality time with his lost best friend! He wanted to catch up with him, not with the people loitering in the soup kitchen. They were not top priority. They were specks compared to Ezra, as much as he hated to call them that.
He slouched at his table and watched Ezra walk out. Familiar faces were wandering with trays of food in their hands, but he didn’t seek them out. Instead, he grabbed his and Ezra’s trays and returned them to the cooks, purposely keeping his chin down to avoid making eye contact with the regulars. As much as he enjoyed their company, he wasn’t in the mood for socializing. Despite what Ezra claimed, he didn’t have stories to tell. All of his stories involved Ezra, including his time spent in District Ten as a volunteer for the drought disaster. How could he describe all of that without introducing them to him? It wouldn’t be the same without him there. No amount of animation and enthusiasm in his body language could convey how important he was without his presence. He couldn’t make them understand with emptiness beside him.
If Ezra wasn’t there at his side, it would just feel like it had for those eight years without him.
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