[ A slow nod is given to him as a reply, the fact that her foot isn’t tapping up and down from an encounter from a stranger was enough to let her know that he was harmless. ]
“Oh! I’m Sunday, hi.”
[ Her hand guides a stray of hair behind her ear, she needed something to occupy her hand before she ended up going in for a handshake — as if it were still popular. Making what she thought may be a friend in the middle of the street was a little peculiar for the petite female but she could do with a few more in her neighbourhood. ]
“I was heading to the park, you can tag along. If you want to, that is.”
[ I know, he thinks smugly, but says nothing of that nature. He’s probably disturbed her enough as it is.
That’s not too bad, though. It might just be a favorable thing for her to dislike him. Then he’ll have a legitimate reason not to come around. ]
“Foster. Hi.”
[ Always the last name. His methods scarcely change.
He looks at her hand for a moment, dread searing his ability to rationalize. Highly disconcerted, he returns his glance back up to her and ignores her lingering hand. And he ponders how strange it is to see someone up close when you’ve been watching them from afar your entire life. ]
“I shouldn’t. Really, um … homework, I think.”
