Harley flicks her gaze over him from head to toe, running quick calculations. She shifts her trunk higher on her shoulder with a golden toss of her hair.
"I've been waiting for hours," she coos with a rosy pout. "Hours and hours. I'm nearly dead of old age."
Gale stands a little straighter as she looks him over, trying to weather it without reaction, but shifting his weight a bit awkwardly — a small tell unless someone had a keen eye. "You wear your advanced age very well then," Gale replies, his tone dry enough not to give away whether he's joking with her. "Perhaps I can at least show you to your room before you perish?"
He smiles back, handsome but a little stiff, like he's not used to building a rapport with people easily.
"Alright. I'll show you to your room first so you can drop off your belongings, then we can begin the tour properly," he explains. The boy's pace is brisk — he clearly knows the campus well — leading her through hallways and past other students, pointing out landmarks she can use to navigate with almost too quickly for them to be useful.
Harley tries to keep up with him, but she's tired from traveling and wants to linger over the things he points out. Several times she has to break into a jog to catch up after getting distracted. Eventually she gets annoyed enough to grab his elbow to slow him down.
"What is this, a timed trial? You're rushing past everything so fast I can't remember a bit of it! Now you'll have to show me everything again."
He stops, turning to look at her with eyebrows raised. He opens his mouth, closes it, pauses for thought, clears his throat, and tries again. "My apologies. I supposed I'm so used to things that I hadn't considered..." Hadn't considered that she might need more time to memorize the layout. More importantly, he had been keen to get this task over with so he could get back to more important tasks. Now he realizes how rude that was. "Well, anyway, let's drop your things off first, and we'll start the tour over. Is that acceptable?"
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"I've been waiting for hours," she coos with a rosy pout. "Hours and hours. I'm nearly dead of old age."
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"Let's go, whippersnapper."
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"Alright. I'll show you to your room first so you can drop off your belongings, then we can begin the tour properly," he explains. The boy's pace is brisk — he clearly knows the campus well — leading her through hallways and past other students, pointing out landmarks she can use to navigate with almost too quickly for them to be useful.
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"What is this, a timed trial? You're rushing past everything so fast I can't remember a bit of it! Now you'll have to show me everything again."
no subject