The confession twists her stomach, all attempts at assuaging Xiii slipping from her countenance and replaced by dismay.
Even with her turbulent childhood Ainsley always had a home, she couldnโt imagine anything less.
โWhenโs the last time you ate something? Like a real meal?โ
โMhm.โ
He offers a small, tired smile right back at the other.
โOh well I donโt got a home anymore so I just sit on the ground or floor most of the time.โ, he shrugs.
โYou, too.โ
She offers him another (hopefully) comforting smile, sweeping her hands back to lean her weight into them.
โSo, what are you doing here, Xiii? The floorโs not a very comfortable place to hang out.โ
โNo, I donโt mind though. I donโt really go anywhere anyways.โ
He shrugs, shifting in place a little bit as he listens to the other.
โIโm Xiii, itโs nice to meet you.โ
โDo you have a backup pair? I think these ones are toast.โ
The breath of a laugh escapes her upturned lips, shifting to place the glasses to the side to keep either of them from injuring themselves.
โIโm Ainsley, by the way.โ
Well not anymore.
Ainsley sinks to the floor with a soft smile, folding her legs in front of her lotus style and holding her hands out for the pair of broken glasses.
โAre they for up close or far away? Your glasses.โ
Ainsley slips into the kitchen, bumping Malcolmโs hip with her own before pressing the heels of her hands against the edge of the counter, leaning her weight into them.
โHey, sorry, I was just downโโ
๐๐ฐ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ด๐ข๐บ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ช๐ณ๐ด.
โโtown, chasing a lead. So, pasta?โ