he hums thoughtfully. it’s an overly extended sound, leading right into:  ‘ — mmmmaybe y’saw me perusin the melons at 7-eleven last week? i was there a while. ’  he drags his cup towards him, tapping his fingers against the ceramic.  ‘ no, uh. i truly got nothin. ’

       ‘ You ever been to Moriarty? It’s in New Mexico. ’ There’s nowhere else she’d really have a chance of knowing him from, she thinks. Definitely not perusing any melons in some 7-eleven, that’s for sure. Not with her new track record for avoiding unfamiliar folks in public places-- or private places, or anywhere David Andersen Collins might rear his ( not so ) ugly head again. ‘ Maybe you just have one of those faces. ’

the reaction he had been receiving from this individual was definitely worth questioning. a simple glare is thrown, simple gesture of a nice nature. this man could go months without eating, just not without beverages. specially milk.  (  as rare as it may seem.  )  thoughts fold back in order, he’s watching her. there had to be something she was hiding, or perhaps afraid of. and it could be him or his past self, that kid who was nothing, but at the same time was everything and not a piece of utility.     ❛           a glass of milk.            ❜   an attempt to a smile is made, and he’s failed. perhaps because mid way through it he was convinced he looked wrong and out of order. 

Kind of weird, but Anna isn’t paid to point that kind of thing out about customers. She’s paid to get them literally nothing other than a glass of milk if that’s what they want, so that’s what she does. It’s easier to just go get him his drink rather than let herself think about how wrong that smile of his looked, reminding her a little too much of another wrong person. 

Anna tries to convince herself that she’s just paranoid and making it up, if not only because that’s the only way she’s going to be able to convince herself to go back to the table. With a smile, as she places down the full glass--

        ‘ Are you sure I can’t get you anything else? ’

eyes follow the plate, and though she realises she’s missed her opportunity to grab it and run — out the way she came, find some place to shelter and figure out what she’s going to do next — her breath catches in her throat and wide eyes pierce her. where are your parents? not here. never here. not coming. no parents. ( papa… bad. )

                           so instead of offering a coherent, verbal answer, eleven simply stares, and tries to ignore that rumble in her stomach.

Either the kid has no parents, or she just doesn’t want to talk because she thinks it might save her from some trouble. Anna’s about as much in the mood to babysit as she is to play the hard-ass hell bent on making sure she pays for her crimes or whatever. Frankly, all she really cares about is that the kid doesn’t eat any more food she might get blamed for losing. 

Still, she figures she should check--

       ‘ --Do you have anybody? ’ 

but, for her sake —–    “Well, uh, I was thinkin’ of just stickin’ around a day or two – nothin’ longer, and I mean that – and then I figured I’d get on the road, head out somewhere. Get myself a job. Y’know, nothin’ too extreme.

“’Course, I’ll be out most of the day, unless your folks need help with somethin’. Figured I’d start makin’ calls while I’m grounded, see what I can have ready by the time I’m outta here.”

That is the problem. Vague little things like in a day or two usually turn into even vaguer big things like maybe a week. It’s the ‘five more minutes’ problem, pretty much, and she’s not at all interested in spending any more time stuck in this nasty. ugly period of her life. Not after her mom only just got past excusing herself to go cry where she thinks nobody else can hear her. 

         ‘ Okay, ’ is all she says for a little bit. That seems to be all the interest in him that she can muster, because Anna’s looking as if she’s ready to get herself going. The less time she spends around him, the better. ‘ If my parents get back when you’re still around, can you tell them I’m picking up an extra shift for Kristen? ’ 

She’s not, but if David thinks he’s telling the truth, the lie will probably go over a lot easier.

the plot thickens. she may be nervous, he’s sensing tension. she couldn’t possibly know him, right ? most things had changed, too many. (  not by design, by force.  )  eyes dart directly unto her own, trying to search for a deeper answer. that works at times, but then again most of those times he’s holding a gun to their head instead of staring like this. name ? it’s alright. doesn’t ring anything down, deep in that casket mind.   ❛          anna.            ❜   he mirrors her response, calmly.     ❛          i’m not freaked out. —  it’s okay.            ❜    it’d be too dumb to assume she’d know him from before, it’s clear she doesn’t. so much for believing in something.   

         ‘ Okay-- ’ Easy enough for him to say he’s fine, it’s a bit of a different story for Anna. Still not entirely convinced, still keeping an eye on his mannerisms, still trying to figure out if there’s any fucking way-- Anything even a little too familiar, she thinks, and she’s out of there. Because if David can survive all the shit he’s survived, why can’t he change his face? She wonders how much trouble she’d get in for just up and running away from work and figures it’d be a lot. Better than dying, though, as far as she’s concerned. She makes a note to ring Luke ASAP. ‘ Okay. Good. Uh-- Can I help you, get you a drink or-- food or something? ’

       ‘ Um-- ’ For a second, her paranoia and overwhelming need to get back to normal, please, oh my God are having something of a fight and she can’t decide if she wants to give her real name. She reminds herself the bone structure is wrong and also she’s being an idiot. ‘ Anna. ’ Still no word on whether she’s decided that was a good idea or not. ‘ I don’t think we’ve met. You just looked like somebody I knew for a second. Didn’t mean to freak out on you. ’

          ‘ that obvious, huh? ’  he’s been fiddling with a cigarette that obviously won’t be lit since he came in. obvious as in the filter’s chewed and he’s split the end of it and made a tiny pile of tobacco on the table.  ‘ fill ‘er up. ’

And she does just that. Anna could leave it there, she knows, but it’s a slow day and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d get irritated by a bit of extra attention. So, with that:

        ‘ Don’t I know you from somewhere? ’ 

         “I don’t think I know anyone who would be happy with cold fucking eggs.”

       ‘ I know, you’re right, I’m sorry-- There was just a mess up in the kitchen or... something. I’ll go ahead and get you some more. ’