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Summary
Nobody seems to see anything about you. But this stranger noticed your budding routine, the ham-fisted attempt at discipline. The rest of your days are lonely and unseen, thankless enough that you feel crazy before your head hits the pillows.
“Do you want something?” His arms are uncrossed now, loose when he clenches and unclenches his fingers.
“Just… Just making conversation I guess.” You shrug helplessly, “Passing the time between sets.”
“I’m not much of a conversationalist,” its monosyllabic, he pauses then, seemingly thoughtful. “So, what is it you really need?”