shane and svetlana

how not to make a first impression

who: svetlana and shane
where: the streets, yo
when: early morning

Shane was out for a walk. Mostly because he'd been holed up with Jillian at his house for days now, and even if he'd (disturbingly) become a bit of a recluse, that didn't mean he had to stay that way. So, he was attempting to do little bits at a time. Like, going for a walk when alright, he wasn't exactly likely to meet anyone, but it was technically possible. Plus, he just needed space. Sometimes he felt a little claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in.

This of course was really special, considering when he was outside for too long he felt like he was far too exposed. How fucking awesome. An entire world of new and exciting Issues. He just didn't want to get them all over Jillian, so he was trying to deal on his own without visibly twitching too much. He walked along the sidewalk, hoodie's hood pulled up against the chill in the air, hands loosely in the front pocket. He'd been listening to his ipod, but had stopped, because the itching tendrils of paranoia had started to curl around him and he'd felt like someone could sneak up on him if he couldn't hear, so he'd shut it off. As he walked, that didn't help him at all as he glanced up and saw a figure up the sidewalk. Which he couldn't hear at all, they were being so quiet.

Svetlana was moving painfully slowly, for her standards. With every step her heavy and precious cargo threatened to smash into one another and she was freaking out about summoning people forth like some sort of...damn...dinner bell. Come and get it, psychos. She wished it hadn't taken so long for her to get out of Ben's house - the frosty sunlight made her anxious, and she wanted to go back to the bath. To eat and to sleep and to hide in the comforting gloom. So, when she noticed the approaching figure, a part of her thought that maybe she had fucked up. Bashed the cans together without realising. Or maybe he was just out walking. People did that, sometimes. Who was this new player? Threat?

She watched him. Hood up. Strong stride. Maybe he hadn't spotted her yet. Maybe he was blind or something. She pressed her back against the lamp-post she was standing next to, stiffened. Like Wile-E-Coyote. Not quite thin enough for the cartoon achievement of complete concealment, but perhaps close. Hidden and watching and waiting for the stupid Roadrunner.