So I'm sitting here, waiting for Avery, a long time friend. I'm lucky that I brought my laptop or I'd be bored out of my mind. –Sigh- he does this a lot… be late I mean. But he's a good guy, never tries to hurt anyone, but somehow it ends up that way. I think it's because he's a deep thinker, ya' know? He constantly has something on his mind, and has a bad habit of not listening. But all and all he's a really good guy.
He walks in and the first thing I notice (as always) is his eyes. An odd icy blue and never focused on anything, looking, always looking trying to find something out of place or odd to study. When he sits his long dark brown hair falls into his eyes, he quickly brushes it aside and smiles. He has an odd smile, kind of sideways. Also every time he does smile he laughs, just a small laugh but when he does, his shoulder shrug up a little and his eyes shine. "Hey." He says, that smile and small laugh follow. I wave a little and he doesn't seem to notice that I'm still typing. He begins to ramble, something about some daredevil that jumped from a small space capsule.
Rambling, another thing he does. When he does this his gaze stays on one object, but it's not you. Something behind you, or something across the room, doesn't matter. He just won't make eye contact. Once he's done talking he asks me how I've been doing. I explain briefly and a small spark shines in his eyes. Something popped into his head and he smiles, and again he rambles, but this time he starts to squirm. Once again a small habit of his, he does this when he wants to get straight to the point of what he wants to say, but can't. He feels the need to explain or even over explain what he means, just so you understand.
I watch (and type) as he gazes curiously at some woman staring at a menu board. He tilts his head like a dog and squints, he begins to bite at his lip and I can tell he's thinking. Once again a habit and one of the worse ones. I've seen him like this, so focused on this thing that he begins to bite at his lip. I think this started as a nervous tick then escalated into a bad habit. I call out his name (a bit too loud) and he turns quickly. His lip was already a little red; I roll my eyes and think up a quick question to keep him from hurting himself. The second that the question leaves my mouth he ducks his head and turns away from me: again, thinking. I can see the gears turn in his head as he thinks, for the second time he starts to fidget then raises his head. He (obviously) gives me the short version of his answer and smiles. He then quickly checks his watch and realizes the time. He mumbled something about work then headed his way to the door and down the street.
And that turns out to be, just another meeting with Avery-Nickolas Mathers…