"Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense." It doesn't, not even remotely, except under these new sets of rules that they've managed to outline. Will settles back in his seat, reaching out now to grab his backpack and pull out his notebook and pencils, already wanting to doodle the werebears in trucks fighting against the supermoose. Supermooses. Whatever. "Mmmkay," he says, flicking open the pages, well on his way to utter distraction.
And then she touches his shoulder. He doesn't flinch or even tense up, which means a+ on the intuition, Sam. Instead he looks up at her with a strange mixture of confusion and wonder, and perhaps the slightest bit of longing. Will's young enough to want affection, to crave it the way only children who were denied such contact (except from one or two sources) can. The look shifts, melts into a quick, brilliant smile before he ducks his head and focuses back on his paper.
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Date: 2017-12-17 09:03 am (UTC)And then she touches his shoulder. He doesn't flinch or even tense up, which means a+ on the intuition, Sam. Instead he looks up at her with a strange mixture of confusion and wonder, and perhaps the slightest bit of longing. Will's young enough to want affection, to crave it the way only children who were denied such contact (except from one or two sources) can. The look shifts, melts into a quick, brilliant smile before he ducks his head and focuses back on his paper.