11-18-2023, 01:05 AM
Despite his usual reserve, Jensen found himself inviting the interaction, a small smile and a nod signaling the empty chair opposite him.
As the individual sat, Jensen noticed the deliberate, respectful way he moved, placing his coffee on the table and settling into the chair. Jensen was accustomed to observing people, and he could tell that Ezvin was experienced in striking up conversations with strangers. There was once a time when Jensen was the exact same way. Prior to living a life on the run, he welcomed casual conversations and was capable of befriending almost anyone in moments. He recognized a similar ease about this man, which Jensen found welcoming and a little compelling.
After the comment about the view, Jensen looked out the window, taking in the autumn scene. "It is," he finally replied, his voice heavy with the drawl of his Texan accent. "The way the light plays with the leaves... it's like watching a living painting."
He was surprised at his own words, at the ease with which they came out in response. Not so because small talk was difficult, but because Jensen found few such opportunities in Moscow. The ones that found him were rare.
Jensen returned the interested gaze, holding the eye contact a moment longer than he normally would. There was a depth in the stranger's expression, one of genuine interest that felt disarming.
For a moment, Jensen considered the possibility that this person was looking for more than just conversation. There was an intensity to the attention, an underlying subtlety that suggested he might be accustomed to random encounters leading to a second meeting. Jensen wasn't sure how he felt about that – intrigued, definitely, but also cautious. He shifted his attention to his drink then, not sure exactly what to do about the situation otherwise. The last time he felt this way, it was clear the feelings weren’t returned.
As the individual sat, Jensen noticed the deliberate, respectful way he moved, placing his coffee on the table and settling into the chair. Jensen was accustomed to observing people, and he could tell that Ezvin was experienced in striking up conversations with strangers. There was once a time when Jensen was the exact same way. Prior to living a life on the run, he welcomed casual conversations and was capable of befriending almost anyone in moments. He recognized a similar ease about this man, which Jensen found welcoming and a little compelling.
After the comment about the view, Jensen looked out the window, taking in the autumn scene. "It is," he finally replied, his voice heavy with the drawl of his Texan accent. "The way the light plays with the leaves... it's like watching a living painting."
He was surprised at his own words, at the ease with which they came out in response. Not so because small talk was difficult, but because Jensen found few such opportunities in Moscow. The ones that found him were rare.
Jensen returned the interested gaze, holding the eye contact a moment longer than he normally would. There was a depth in the stranger's expression, one of genuine interest that felt disarming.
For a moment, Jensen considered the possibility that this person was looking for more than just conversation. There was an intensity to the attention, an underlying subtlety that suggested he might be accustomed to random encounters leading to a second meeting. Jensen wasn't sure how he felt about that – intrigued, definitely, but also cautious. He shifted his attention to his drink then, not sure exactly what to do about the situation otherwise. The last time he felt this way, it was clear the feelings weren’t returned.