"ANNA?"

    my thoughts come to an abrupt halt as i turn to see elliot, bundled up in a blue sweater. it's the first time i realise how windy it is, because his shock of brown hair is being blown against his forehead; my own dark hair gets scattered in front of my eyes.

    "what 're you up to?" his genuine curiosity is a specimen, surely. no grown englander has ever been so genuine. i quickly remember that he is not an englander any more than i am. while i yield from ireland, i know from talks with him that he grew up in france, though you wouldn't think so from his looks.

    "not much." he seems confused. perhaps in his mind, everything has a purpose, has something that makes it make sense; i suppose wandering aimlessly around campus is rather purposeless. "wotcher doing out here? 's cold as the arctic."

    "i was actually heading back to my dorm. the french professor wanted to talk to me about possibly tutoring some of his less successful students." that is surely one of the most not-exciting sentences i have ever heard him say.

    it came to my attention after a moment that he's struggling to say something. his eyes have wandered to his shoes.

    "cat got your tongue?"

    his cheeks grow a bit red before he slowly looks up to me. his brown eyes are too light to come from the more east asian side of his family. in the time before he gets his words out, i note how close we are in height. he's probably only a few centimetres taller than me.

    "would you, uh...maybe want to come hang out with me today? since you're not doing anything."

    i give him a strange look. not a bad look, but truly intrigued. i wonder if lisa would mind if i bail on her. i mean, i was going to bail anyway.

    "sure."

    his eyebrows shoot up, as if he's surprised. "really?"

    i grin at him. why the hell not? "lead the way, frenchman."

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~wren

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