Halden stopped as Cassper told him to stop, and turned to look at him carefully. He took in every detail. Height? Around six-foot. Weight? one-...fourty five... one-fifty... Hair? brown... does he style it that way? or does it just do it's own thing? Eyes? Brown? it's too dark to tell. indicate some sort of asian lineage. perhaps korean? He looks nervous. Speak, Crowe, you dog.
Wait! Don't speak! He's speaking.
Halden's mental analysis took mere seconds, but the time seemed to slow down simultaneously. Had his brain not been fogged by the Jack Daniels rolling around in his gut, Halden would've had him pegged instantly.
There's not a mean bone in this man. Is he inviting me to stay with him? but I'm a piece of shit. Why would anyone help me?
Halden couldn't help but smile when the stranger smiled at him, and offered his hand. The whole time he'd lived in Fucking Lawrence, he'd felt outcast. He'd felt alone. The only time people gave him the time of day was when they needed something. Hey, Crowe, can you help me with my physics homework? Halden, wanna come over to my place and help me with chem homework? It seemed almost weird that someone was coming to his aid in a time of need. But he was also really intoxicated and the thought of crashing on a couch seemed more appetizing than the campground outside of town.
Take his hand, Halden. He's not going to hurt you. A couch would be nice. A cigarette would be nice. Nicotine is a stimulant. When you're exposed to toxic levels of organophosphate... Not now brain. Take the guys fucking hand before someone sees you two, assumes you're lovers, and then the homophobic cunts will beat you even worse.
Halden reached out and took Casspian's hand, and smiled at him again. "You won't regret this. I promise," He said softy, a weird tingle down his spine as their skin contacted.