Still sniffling, James' hand closed tight around the lady's before he could stop himself. There was something so comforting about it, being led around by someone who knew better, by someone who didn't try to strip his feelings down to the core or tell him what he was supposed to do. Not long after, he felt the rest of his emotions strike, guilt that held his steps heavy, that pushed the toe of his shoe forward to kick away a stray pebble on the porch, that clung tightly with his free hand to the pad that he still needed later to finish the letter. It was just wrong, James thought to himself, not to tell her that she needed to be careful. As he continued to scuff his shoes against the floor of the porch, James spoke up at last.
"Okay. I like juice. But..." Hesitantly, he stared up at her, eyes briefly following her dark curls of hair, quite unlike anyone he'd ever seen before. "Do you know a Mr. Sawyer around here? Have you heard of him?"
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Date: 2011-08-16 04:45 am (UTC)"Okay. I like juice. But..." Hesitantly, he stared up at her, eyes briefly following her dark curls of hair, quite unlike anyone he'd ever seen before. "Do you know a Mr. Sawyer around here? Have you heard of him?"