smile ~ {{roxanne nakamura/silas everard}}

[SILAS EVERARD]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll3/carriesmatic/2010/BLUEVICTORIANBACKGROUND-1.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]I was just guessing at numbers and figures[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #ABA9AA; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Pulling your puzzles apart.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #C2C2C2; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] The doctor made his way down the near-deserted, puddle-filled streets with a single goal in mind. The few other pedestrians out on a morning like this were less attentive than usual- even Silas, distracted as he was, could see that. The people passed each other by briskly with nothing more than a little nod or murmured greeting, if even that, their eyes on the buildings ahead of them or on the wet ground. It was a sharp contrast to their usual behavior- when the weather wasn't quite so dismal, it was common to see little clusters of Utopians dotting the sidewalks, having halted their journeys for a chat with complete strangers. Not that he'd ever been the sort to do that. Today, the atmosphere was subduded and almost gloomy, passerby more concerned with getting to their destinations- and out of the pouring rain and the chill that seemed to seep into everything, warning of the fast-approaching autumn. Raising his blue eyes from the slippery sidewalks for just a moment, he wiped spattered droplets of water from his glasses with his sleeve, spotting his goal just ahead. 'The Coffee Cup', read the carefully-lettered sign hanging over the door of the quaint little shop, and he paused for a moment to take it in. He'd never been to the popular cafe before- for precisely that reason, never one to easily endure crowds. He'd been tempted a time or two, certainly, but in the end his reclusive nature had always won out. This morning, though, his poor coffeemaker had finally lost its long-standing battle with the years and died abruptly, its final sound nothing more than a tiny, hissing sputter. He'd been left staring blankly at it, mug in hand, with no other option but to get his coffee here, if he wanted it that badly. And he certainly did. The shop's door was red, painted with a thin black trim to match the awning above, and somehow didn't look as quite as washed-out in the gray, filtered morning light as everything else did. It was the door he set his focus on, and that was his mistake. The moment Silas raised his eyes from the pavement, he stumbled over a thin fracture in the cement, and as he struggled to recover, lost his footing in a pool of water that had gathered on the smooth pathway. He landed on his rear, hard, in the middle of the puddle and blinked a good three times before anything fully registered, his expression one of such wounded dignity that just about anyone who saw him would have laughed. Hopefully no one had. With a little sound of annoyance and an admirable attempt at hiding his embarassment, he avoided glancing at the shop's window for fear he'd see an amused customer staring back and stood, wringing water from the end of his thick ponytail. Retrieving his umbrella from where it'd been dropped a few feet away, he pushed the door open, stepping hurriedly into the little shop. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[ROXANNE NAKAMURA]

"Ah! I'm going to be late!"

Muttering something about hoping her watch was a few minutes fast, the pink-haired teenager started to run, splashing through what appeared to be every puddle in the streets connecting her apartment to the small cafe off the Main Road where she worked. She completely ignored - or was completely oblivious to - the fact that her shoes were soaked and the people she sprinted past were getting their fair share of water, too, managing only a few breathless apologies to those who got the worst of it before she was gone.

Finally, she hit a familiar street and allowed herself to slow, a soft sigh of relief making its way out her lips as she saw her destination. She had, in fact, made it. Satisfied, she swung open the door and chirped a cheerful greeting to her fellow employees, who either replied half-heartedly or didn't at all.

"Hi!" Roxanne smiled as she took off her lightweight jacket and scarf, both of which she hung on the coat stand by the door. Nobody said anything much in return, which clued her in to the fact that even the usually smiling employees of the Coffee Cup were down. She had no idea why, though, so let it slide without putting too much thought into it.

She made her way to the back of the shop and tied on the plain black apron all cafe workers had to wear. Her hands, which were hardly ever idle, found one of many most rags, which had been washed earlier this morning for the express purpose of wiping down tables. It wasn't really necessary with the day so young and the customers few, but Roxy was never one to sit around and do nothing, so she cleared it anyway.

She was just finishing up at one of the tables closest to the window when she spotted someone staring at the shop's door. She watched in interest, as any employee would at the possibility of a customer, and quickly confirmed the thought that he would be coming in. She started to straighten up, put the rag away, when a sudden lurching movement caught the corner of her eye and she turned.

And was greeted almost immediately by the sight of the very professional-looking man sitting on his bum in a pool of water.

Unable to help herself, she started to giggle, covering up her smile with a slim hand and struggling to hold the sound in as the man processed what had just happened and got to his feet with a certain wounded expression she found both amusing and respectable.

"Hello," She said with a kind smile as he walked in, trying hard not to laugh as she took in his generally half-drowned appearance. She only half-succeeded, as a sound she badly disguised as a cough made it's way from her throat and she couldn't help but grin wider. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, I'll be, ah, right back." She held up the rag in a way that showed she was leaving for a reason, not just to get control over herself - she could only hope he hadn't seen her laugh, then he might never come back and it'd be her fault - and headed for the back of the cafe once more.

[SILAS EVERARD]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll3/carriesmatic/2010/BLUEVICTORIANBACKGROUND-1.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]I was just guessing at numbers and figures[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #ABA9AA; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Pulling your puzzles apart.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #C2C2C2; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] The chime above the door clinked faintly, though it was drowned out for the most part by the sound of the torrential downpour that lashed against the pavement outside. One of the waitresses, a teenage girl with hair nearly the shade of a tea rose, was standing over the nearest table, rag in hand as she wiped it down. "Good morning." He responded to her cheerful hello with a little nod and those two soft words, meeting her green eyes just briefly and, though his inscrutable expression never changed, inwardly cringing when he saw the barely-concealed mirth glittering in their depths. A little squeak that only half-resembled a cough escaped her lips as she looked the dripping man over, despite her careful attempt at hiding it. Oh yes, she'd most definitely seen. But she wasn't laughing at him outright, at least, a fact that he appreciated. Silas nodded as she vanished off into a back room and paused in the entryway to survey the shop. The whole place carried the rich scent of coffee and gave off a certain cheery aura, one of a comfortable warmth. Thankfully, on a day like today, it wasn't at all crowded, the few other customers in the shop sparing him only a glance or two. Pushing wet bangs out of his eyes, he shook his black umbrella slightly, closed it, and stood it against the wall just outside the door. The various tables were scattered throughout the shop's interior in a way that felt more casual than orderly, and after examining them for a moment, opted for a glass-topped one that stood on the tiled area near the door. Normally, he would have ventured further into the store, where it was quieter and the chilly drafts that gusted in whenever the front door opened wouldn’t hit him, but he didn’t want to drip rainwater onto the carpeted half of the café. He remained standing for the same reason, to keep the cushioned chair dry, though he did lean on the table slightly as he awaited the waitress's return. One hand ran restlessly through his wet ponytail while the other removed his glasses and wiped the rainwater away with the lining of his coat pocket, the only thing that was still dry. His cobalt blue gaze drifted to the counter as he did, searching for that bright hair. It was somehow familiar, though only slightly. The sheer pinkness of it tugged at his memory. Perhaps he’d seen her around the city before- after all, hair like that wasn’t easily forgotten [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[ROXANNE NAKAMURA]

After fumbling around in the back for a minute or two that seemed an eternity, Roxanne emerged wearing a calmer, almost professional expression, her blue-green eyes still holding traces of laughter; though, it was hard to tell if it was reminisces of amusement from the man's fall, or simply her usual oblivious joy that lit them.

She found the man from earlier not much further from where she'd left him, standing by a table instead of sitting. For a moment, a flicker of confusion crinkled her brow, and the teen couldn't help but wonder if something was unsuitable to his liking. As she got closer, however, she remembered how very wet he was and decided his standing must be an act of courtesy. Her smile returned.

"Alrighty." She looked up at the man, ready to start sprouting the usual waitress talk - the menu, specials of the day, what would he like, casual conversation, the whole shebang - when she realized he was a good deal taller than herself. Possibly by a whole foot. For some reason, this intrigued her. Was that why he'd fallen? Were tall people clumsier than short?

No, she decided after looking him over again, in a more serious manner that she didn't completely try to hide. He looked smart, so chances were the fall could have happened to anyone. And besides, she was short in comparison, and she still had a tendency to trip over her own feet. Perhaps he was new to the cafe? There was a tricky little crack in the sidewalk that many newcomers didn't see, she herself was often its victim even after months of working there. Although Roxanne fancied she recognized this man from somewhere. Not trusting her own, often failing memory, she resolved to ask him about his workplace later - perhaps she'd seen him there.

"My name's Roxanne, and I'll be your server today." She began in the way all employees were told to begin conversations with customers, almost smiling at the thought that her coworkers would be impressed with her rare professionalism, then abruptly stopped talking, gaze flickering over his wet coat and the way he stood by the table. It was an obvious survey, and she didn't try and hide it at all, as the thought that it might be weird didn't even pass through her head.

She didn't like it when her customers looked uncomfortable like that, even if he wasn't. "Would you like to take off your coat? There's a heater in the back, I can hang it nearby and try to dry it for you before you leave." She smiled, more kindly than exuberantly this time, almost as if she was apologizing for laughing earlier, having forgotten entirely about coffee and pastries and proper server-customer interactions in her spur-of-the-moment offer.

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[SILAS EVERARD]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll3/carriesmatic/2010/BLUEVICTORIANBACKGROUND-1.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]I was just guessing at numbers and figures[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #ABA9AA; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Pulling your puzzles apart.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #C2C2C2; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] He finally spotted her pushing her way past a swinging door at the far left of the shop and trotting towards his table, now empty-handed. Her greeting wasn't overly long, or unecessarially wordy, but it left him blinking nonethless with the sheer force of it, the calm, collected doctor slightly taken aback. The pink-haired girl’s cheery exuberance didn’t appear to be that faux friendliness servers so often put on for customers, but her genuine personality, dizzying as that was for almost-grim Silas to imagine. After all, he could easily be described as her polar opposite. She stood there for a moment looking him over, that warm smile lingering on her lips as she took him in. He was a good foot taller at least, if not more than that, and she had to tip her head back slightly to meet his cobalt eyes with her own bluish-green ones. She finally did launch into the standard server’s introduction, only to abruptly pause after the first sentence and offer to take his coat. He was slightly surprised, but nonethless grateful for the offer. Despite the warmth of the shop, he was still shivering slightly. “Ah, would you? Please." And then a moment or two later, "Thank you."

[/color] Six words in less than ten minutes, eight if you counted the “Good morning.” he’d given her as he entered. It must have been some kind of record. It was the most a stranger had ever gotten out of him in such a short amount of time, extenuating circumstances excluded, and he found himself slightly surprised. It was something about her manner, he decided, her… sheer sunniness that had done it, and with a little jolt, he abruptly realized why.

Alice.

The thought came to him without warning, his traitorous mind daring to dredge up the name that he’d buried for so long, and he froze for a moment. Now that the fact had surfaced, it was undeniable. Pink hair aside, she was really very Alice in the way she spoke, in a few of those tiny little mannerisms, even that smile.

Especially that smile.

And the way she was going out of her way with his coat- Oh, that was right, his coat. He remembered suddenly and undid the double row of buttons, tugging the soaked thing free with more effort than was usually required. Pushing his hair aside, he handed it over, eyes flicking to her face. She was still gazing at him with no attempt to conceal her blatant interest, as if it had never occurred to her that it might be… unusual, to say the least. Not that he really minded. He was under close scrutiny, certainly, but it wasn’t of a critical sort. Her eyes held no contempt or anything remotely similar- just pure, unadaultered curiosity.

Feeling slightly awkward, he lowered his dark eyes to his drenched shirt and tugged at it in an attempt to straighten it out, doing the same with his tie. She seemed to have entirely adbandoned the idea of standard waitress protocol, the idea of taking his order entirely forgotten, as far as he could tell. It might have annoyed some, but not him- though his expressionless expression never changed, his eyes glittered with a hint of warm bemusement.


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[/style][/td][/tr][tr][td][atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~
LYRIC,~ ~ ~
NOTES,~ ~ ~
CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.
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[ROXANNE NAKAMURA]

He looked surprised by her offer, which made Roxanne feel all the more pleased when he accepted it. She couldn't quite place why- perhaps she was just proud of herself for being so intuitive. Either way, her smile brightened once more.

A moment or two later, he'd made no move to take off his coat and was staring at her. His expression, which she analyzed in a few quick looks, was still surprised, if not more so than it had been a moment before.

Puzzled, she found her head tipping to one side like a confused puppy's. She didn't mind the staring - she'd always been the type to draw attention to herself, even if accidentally, so that was nothing new - but the sheer, stiff shock present in his general person was a bit concerning. She briefly considered the possibility that he was having a seizure or something complicated and medical that she would know nothing about, but no, that was impossible. He was perfectly healthy if the fact that he'd tripped was left out, and this was Utopia. No one got so sick they'd have seizures. At least, no one that Roxy knew about.

Then, almost as if he'd just remembered it, he started taking off his coat, albeit with a bit of a struggle. She automatically stepped forward to assist, caught herself, and switched the action to twisting her hair up and tying it into a bun, hoping he didn't find the accidental movement weird. She reached to take the coat from him, the wet fabric cool and somehow relaxing against her hands. She slung it over a forearm, ignoring the liquid that was beginning to permeate her own clothing, and almost started walking away.

"Oh! I almost forgot." She brushed a few straggling strands of hair behind her ear and looked sheepish for a few fleeting seconds. "What can I get you? We have a house roast on special that's supposed to be excellent, but I wouldn't know since I'm more of a tea gal, and there are a whole bunch of other drinks and pastries and breakfast things, if you wanted something like that." All this was said in a bit of a rush, in classic Roxanne Nakamura fashion. She threw a quick smile his way, this time amused by his awkwardness, and added, in a teasing tone that tended to annoy her customers - not that she cared - "And really, sit down and relax. It's not like I'm going to eat you."

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[SILAS EVERARD]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll3/carriesmatic/2010/BLUEVICTORIANBACKGROUND-1.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]I was just guessing at numbers and figures[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #ABA9AA; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Pulling your puzzles apart.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #C2C2C2; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] Even the way she spoke was the same- exuberant. Cheerful. Bright. The sentences were individual and clear enough, but they were tossed out, rapid-fire and with hardly a pause for breath in between. It'd have left many dazed, struggling to grasp the last thing she'd said, much less the first, but he'd been used to it once. Long ago, admittedly, but he still managed to catch what she said fairly well, all things considered. "That would be fine, thank you. And.." He cast a glance at the glass display case at the shop's front, built into the counter and crammed with countless little carefully-crafted sweets and pastries. One look told him that it was hopeless- he'd never be able to choose just one. And anyway, to get a better look, he'd have to navigate through the other customers clustered around the cash register. Tempting as the chocolate ones looked, he finally just shook his head slightly and turned his gaze back to her. The waitress looked half-amused, a little smirk on her lips and her eyes glinting playfully. That teasing, lilting chirp of a tone her last sentence had been in, as well as the slant to her eyes as she'd shot him that final glance over her shoulder was nothing unfamiliar to him either, though he'd stopped being too surprised by now. She was right, he supposed, and he didn't know why he was so on edge. This was a teenage girl with pink hair. There were countless ways to describe her- but intimidating wasn't one of them. Nor was threatening. It was the faint familiarity that had done it, perhaps. That odd little sense of deja vu- he felt as if he knew her, yet he was also certain that he didn't- she really was the unforgettable type. It was an odd feeling, to say the least. He laid a hand on the chair's back and pulled it away from the table slightly, the clink of metal against tile loud in the quiet cafe. Sitting down at long last, he restlessly slid the napkin dispenser back and forth as Roxanne departed, his coat in one hand, pink hair swaying slightly as she trotted off. She'd caught his curiosity- a girl so much like his Alice... Not to mention that he was certain he'd seen her somewhere before, and he resolved to bring it up before he left the shop. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[ROXANNE NAKAMURA]

"Okiedokie. I'll be right back with your coffee." It was the only thing she'd said other than her introduction that was standard, as even her recount of the menu had been filled with her own spin on things and changed it dramatically. She almost smiled at him again, but her feet were already leading her away and she ended up smiling at the few other customers and her fellow employees and at anything else that seemed to need brightening up instead.

She pushed through the swinging doors that always reminded her of an old fashioned Western saloon and made her way to her destination in the corner. The heater was a simple, silver rectangular box with vents on the sides to keep the mechanics inside cool. It was on, as it almost always was, and as she neared it she could feel the warmth seeping into her skin, not unpleasantly.

After a moment of deliberation, she slung the coat over a metal bar in the wall, alongside a few other drying dishes and towels. She considered putting it on the heater itself, but had eventually decided against it in case the cloth caught fire or burned or something - if that was even possible, how would she know? That done, she grabbed a clean white coffee cup that had some sort of smart coffee-related humor printed on the side and filled it with bitter-smelling dark liquid from the black machine from which it came.

Roxanne set the filled cup on its corresponding white tray and backed through the swinging doors, using two hands to steady the drink because she knew there was a chance she would drop it otherwise. On her way past the counter, she eyed the pastries inside with curiosity, an idea forming vaguely somewhere in the back of her mind.

Already acting on it before she had time to fully think it through, she set the cup on the counter, observed the selection, and chose a chocolate-topped eclair that couldn't have been more than three inches long. She had no idea whether or not he liked that sort of thing or if he even wanted one, nor did she know why the heck she was bothering to give out a treat that would most definitely come out of her paycheck - but she didn't care. The man was really just like anyone else who came through the cafe, but to her he seemed to deserve a little something extra. He was a nice enough person after all, just quiet, and Roxy had always found quiet people intriguing because there was more often than not something interesting going on in their heads, waiting to be shared. Besides, she'd laughed at him when he'd fallen and her mother always said that such things were rude and required apology.

She placed the eclair on the side of the dish, angled ever so slightly artistically, and returned to the table, smiling on reflex as she saw him sitting, the napkin dispenser slipping from hand to hand along the tabletop she'd recently wiped down. "Here you go." Roxanne gently put the coffee down and faced him expectantly. "Can I get you anything else?"

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[SILAS EVERARD]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll3/carriesmatic/2010/BLUEVICTORIANBACKGROUND-1.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]I was just guessing at numbers and figures[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #ABA9AA; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Pulling your puzzles apart.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #C2C2C2; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] He'd been gazing absently out the window, blue eyes trailing the countless raindrops as they traced their haphazard, plummeting paths across the pristine glass, pooling in the bottom of the sill. He only noticed that Roxanne had returned when the soft chink of the mug and dish being set on the glass-topped table echoed through the mostly-quiet shop. He turned to face the cheery girl and instead caught sight of the chocolate eclair sitting beside his coffee. His gaze flicked up to meet her blue-green eyes and he inclined his head curiously. She'd.. noticed? Or simply guessed? "You didn't have to-" He protested just slightly, cutting off with another glance at the chocolate-coated confection, then looking back to Roxanne. "Thank you." And for the first time, he smiled. It'd never quite match hers for vibrancy, but it was genuine and it was... warm. He reached for the mug that waited on the table, slender fingers wrapping around the thin white handle, and raised it to his lips briefly. It was strong coffee, not that he minded at all, and... admittedly something worth coming back for. This wouldn't be the last time he visited the little shop, crowds or no. Noticing that the pink-haired girl hadn't departed yet, he set the mug down, though he didn't let it go, grateful for the heat that seeped through the thick ceramic. "Miss-" He started somewhat hesitantly, pausing just as abruptly as he had begun. Why bring it up? His subconscious suddenly complained. It was an odd question, probably an annoying one and for a moment, he nearly dropped the idea of asking altogether, but.. She'd heard and was already gazing at him expectantly, smiling as always. He had to finish now. "Forgive me if this sounds odd, but you seem to be... familiar, though I can't recall our paths.. ever having crossed." He finally offered, blinking up at her from behind his glasses, hoping that she'd know. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[ROXANNE NAKAMURA]

A smile. She'd expected a lot of things in exchange for the little eclair - protests, which she would have waved away like they were bothersome flies, ignorance, if he'd thought it came with - but a smile was not foreseen. Not from him anyway. It wasn't anything special, as far as smiles went, but as she accepted his thanks with a little nod, her own grin still as joyful as ever, Roxanne thought that the expression suited him. It was natural, just a bit unused.

She liked it. Liked the smile, liked that she'd been able to pull it from him. So she decided to try and coax it out again, if just for the heck of it.

"Roxanne." She corrected as he called her 'miss,' not liking the formality of it. It did pique her curiosity though, and she found herself watching him in anticipation, awaiting the question she assumed was coming.

He thought he recognized her from somewhere? Roxy racked her scattered brain, recalling the faint recognition she'd experienced when he first came in, but again came up empty handed. Realizing she'd left him hanging while she thought, she quickly spoke, parts of her words slurring together in her haste. "It's not a weird question at all, no worries! Sorry I was just trying to think. I honestly don't know, um, I also work at the Centre if you think you saw me there, and I'm out and about a lot anyway, so perhaps just around town." She exhaled, pursing her lips slightly, and only semi-consciously perched on the edge of the table she had her back to. "I think we've met before, too, though. Or at least, I'm almost positive I've seen you at least once. Maybe on the East Side? I have an apartment at the Scottson..."

She trailed off, her jumbled ramblings coming to an end as she lapsed into thought once more. She'd never been good with faces, or names really... Which reminded her, she didn't even know his. It wasn't her place to ask, as a waitress, but he seemed to think he knew her, so maybe he wouldn't mind? Fixing her gaze on his blue ones, curious and hoping he wouldn't take offense, she added in a light, friendly tone, "By the way, I never caught your name."

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[SILAS EVERARD]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll3/carriesmatic/2010/BLUEVICTORIANBACKGROUND-1.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]I was just guessing at numbers and figures[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #ABA9AA; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Pulling your puzzles apart.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #C2C2C2; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] She hadn't said anything, not for a good long moment, and in the awkward silence, Silas had instantly begun mentally berating himself. One hand pulled the end of his long, blue ponytail over the high back of chair and began twisting the still-damp silk around his wrist, a nervous habit he was utterly unaware of. See? His irritated subconscious demanded. Keep your mouth shut next time. Before he could get any further, though, she abruptly recovered and proceeded to launch into a torrent of hurried, overlapping words that tumbled into one another and fused together. What he managed to catch, however, both reassured him as to the nature of his admittedly random question and confirmed his suspicions, though she didn't seem to have any more idea than he. He didn't usually frequent the Center, really didn't stray from his home much at all unless he could help it, and she seemed just the opposite, from what he gathered. His cobalt blue gaze found her eyes the moment the familiar word- 'Scottson' -escaped her lips, though, and he nodded, the idea clicking firmly into place in his mind. Yes. What else could it be, after all? "That's likely it, then- I live there as well." He responded, absently sipping at his coffee. Perhaps they'd noticed each other in passing. The elevator. The lobby. The mailboxes. The possibilities were endless, though it was slightly embarrasing, to have just admitted that he couldn't place her when they'd been so close all along. A few floors apart. A few doors down, perhaps? And then she asked for his name. Certainly not the typical waitress. Though he found that it didn't bother him at all. "Silas." He offered it freely, without any trace of the hesitation that would usually be present. "Silas Everard." [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[ROXANNE NAKAMURA]

None of the possibilities she uttered seemed to have hit home with him, and Roxy found herself in a very confused state. A very un-Roxanne state. Her usually confused mind whirled, creating all the awkward outcomes known to man if they did, in fact, not know each other. She tried to figure out what she would say, whether she should just laugh it off - it was all very confusing, and she found herself wishing her subconscious hadn't chosen that moment to emerge in a fretful frenzy.

Then his expression changed, though she couldn't immediately place how; after a moment she realized he had met her eyes before affirming her last thought. Of course.

She found herself relaxing, her fingers releasing their hold on the damp portion of her dark blue sweater sleeve, which she hadn't even noticed she'd been holding. In fact, she hadn't even noticed it was wet. It took her a moment to place why before she remembered she'd carried his coat on that arm.

Silas Everard. The name suited him, somehow, and further confirmed the fact that she'd seen him at the apartment complex - she recalled passing by the label with his name on it every time she passed, always curious to who it was. He lived a floor above her, if she remembered correctly. Without thinking much, she said, "That's a nice name," in an offhand, almost dreamy tone of voice, her thoughts elsewhere.

In a brief moment or two, her mind had wandered back to the current situation. She fixed the customer, Silas, with another of her curious looks, wanting to get to know him better without seeming creepy or stalker-ish, and having no idea how to go about doing any such thing.[/color][/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[SILAS EVERARD]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll3/carriesmatic/2010/BLUEVICTORIANBACKGROUND-1.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]I was just guessing at numbers and figures[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #ABA9AA; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Pulling your puzzles apart.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #C2C2C2; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] She'd looked confused until he'd finally spoken up, her smile and the cheerful gleam in her two-tone eyes returning at that very moment. Now, it was clear why she- and her name- were familiar. Certainly he'd seen her around the complex a time or two, perhaps passed by her door or her mailbox and thus spotted her name on the label. The sudden compliment took him aback for perhaps half a second, but aside from the tiny hint of surprise in his dark blue eyes, it didn't show. He wasn't complimented often, and so he hesitated for a heartbeat as he tried to decide how to best respond to the words. "Thank you." That faint, barely-there hint of a smile crossed his lips again as he looked up and met her gaze. She seemed to be lost in thought, a certain vagueness in her tone and a distance to her eyes, and for a moment, he permitted himself to wonder- but of course he didn't ask- it'd be rude of him. Terribly so. Instead, he averted his own gaze and broke off the very edge of the eclair, which he dipped into his coffee absently, swirling it around in the hopes that some of the chocolate would seep into the warm drink. The chime above the door rang out sharply in the quiet of the cafe as another customer entered, sending a few droplets of rain spattering onto the tile of the entryway and a gust of chilly air twisting its way through the building. He shifted his chair to the side, moving away from the draft until the woman who'd stepped in hurried up to the cashier at the counter. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.

[ROXANNE NAKAMURA]

Still perched on the edge of an empty table, Roxanne was starting to fidget. Her legs crossed at the ankles, swung back and forth slightly, the hand supporting her tapping its fingers in a classical tune - one of Mozart's symphonies, the sweet notes having remained in her head after ballet practice the other evening.

Finally she decided to ask what was on her mind. Was it awkward? Yes. But that wasn't what bothered her; she'd said quite a few awkward things already, and he'd seemed to take them well enough. What bothered her was that he might take offense, feel as if she were violating his privacy, or something of that nature. That would be bad. Roxy did not like it when people held grudges against her. She preferred for them to have a good impression of her, or at least a neutral one.

She looked up briefly as the newcomer entered, smiled at her even though the woman was already hurrying past, and glanced backwards to make sure someone would be at the counter to serve her. Then she returned to Silas, who was stirring a piece of the eclair she'd given him into the coffee. Quiet, not appearing as if he cared if she left or kept talking.

"Why are you so quiet?"

The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and by the time she realized what she'd said she was already watching him, waiting for an answer. A hint of a blush started to rise to her cheeks, but with an act of will she shoved it down. Now that the question had been asked - albeit, not quite the question she'd intended to ask - she found herself wanting an answer. If he refused, well... she'd just move on to another question, or if seemed really mad, make an excuse about being needed in the kitchen - she wasn't going to take it back, not now that she'd said it and he knew she was curious.

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[SILAS EVERARD]

[atrb=cellSpacing,20,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 450px; background: url(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll3/carriesmatic/2010/BLUEVICTORIANBACKGROUND-1.jpg); border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #f1ca97, bTable][style=font-family: courier new; text-align: right; color: #FFFFFF; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: -10px; padding: 5px 30px 1px 5px;]I was just guessing at numbers and figures[/style][style=font-family: harrington; text-align: right; color: #ABA9AA; letting-spacing: 1px; line-height: 5px; padding: 0px 15px 5px 0px;]Pulling your puzzles apart.[/style][style=float: right; width: 270; padding: 10px; height: 310px; overflow: auto; background-color: #C2C2C2; opacity: 0.4; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #808000; font: 10px verdana; color: #000000; text-align: justify;] The doctor flinched just a bit. He hadn't intended to, but the the force of the question- and the content of it- had come as a shock. Admittedly a faint one, but a shock nonethless. Pulling a napkin free of the dispenser and wordlessly dabbing at the collecting droplets of coffee he'd sloshed onto the clean glass tabletop, he cleared his throat uneasily before gazing up at her, his impassive expression having made a full comeback. Roxanne looked slightly embarrassed as well, as if the query had been more of an outburst than anything else, but nonethless, she was gazing at him expectantly. And suddenly he realized that she had a point. Why was he so quiet? He knew the answer, of course, but.. He met her eyes, then diverted his gaze just as quickly, finding himself staring blankly at the table instead. He didn't know that he was going to answer... But then he did. "Ah.. it's.. a long story. A very long story. I-I've never been the talkative sort." Silas considered leaving it at that, but she was leaning forward, looking at him with such curiosity that he couldn't quite bring himself to. He swallowed heavily instead and tried to hide the accent that was gradually seeping back into his voice. "And I'm a bit... guarded, I suppose.." He added, pushing up his glasses slightly. His gaze had never once left the table as he'd haltingly attempted to explain. "Perhaps a bit too guarded.." The doctor mused at last before finally trailing off. It was the most he'd said the entire time he'd been in the shop, and that realization hit him, rather dully. Oddly enough, it didn't matter as much to him now as it ordinarilywould have. [/style][style=float: left;] [/style]

[atrb=style, height: 80px; overflow: auto; border-style: dotted; border-width: 1px; border-color: #000000; font-family: verdana; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;]TAG,~ ~ ~ LYRIC,~ ~ ~ NOTES,~ ~ ~ CREDIT,made by LUCI of OTE. steal & die. ; Edited by Maeka of Defrauding Fate.