![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
He kept staring down the street, watching the carts rattle by and the still-few shop fronts, still with that strange thoughtful expression, and she waited, watching him with her nerves on edge, waiting for something to happen, for the explosion that so often happened when he acted differently.
"You built a real city," he repeated softly for the third time, then suddenly his gaze shifted as he looked at her - looked, as though seeing her for the first time, as though he was trying to place who she was. She waited, her words caught in her throat by a fear she couldn't show. He'd always remembered her - remembered his crew, even if he forgot other people or events. What would she do if he forgot her...?
His next words came unexpectedly. "We aren't teenagers anymore," he said, still softly, and finally looked away again, back down the street. "We haven't been for a really long time, have we."
"You built a real city," he repeated softly for the third time, then suddenly his gaze shifted as he looked at her - looked, as though seeing her for the first time, as though he was trying to place who she was. She waited, her words caught in her throat by a fear she couldn't show. He'd always remembered her - remembered his crew, even if he forgot other people or events. What would she do if he forgot her...?
His next words came unexpectedly. "We aren't teenagers anymore," he said, still softly, and finally looked away again, back down the street. "We haven't been for a really long time, have we."
