It was cold enough that Xiao had finally gotten around to buying a proper pair of gloves. Though far from the best available, they did wonders when Xiao had his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Notably, they helped his knuckles lose some of that redness as he ventured into different establishments, pulling them off and flexing his fingers as he blew hot air into his palms. Xiao was unaccustomed to English winters and he discovered that they could be added to the list of English features that he wasn’t too fond of, a list that seemed to grow each day.
He found he couldn’t handle the cold for too long, the wind slowly becoming Xiao’s worst enemy, but thankfully he had been able to spend most of his time browsing more secluded entreprises, where his cheeks could resist the biting sting and he could think without having to focus on the way the weather and the street combined to become even more unpredictable. That was how he found himself in a bookshop, reading, very pointedly, about the area he had found himself in. Information that he tried to commit to memory for later, but there was only so much browsing one could do before the clerk would clear their throat and inquire about a purchase, even less was available when one had Xiao’s set of features, the way he hid his face in his coat probably did nothing to encourage an innocent impression anyway.
So he found himself out on the street again, gloves pulled over his hands as he edged past a crowd on the walkway, shifting to make himself less of an obstacle. He walked by a pub, wondering if the warmth of a strong drink would be enough to satisfy the chill settling into his skin. Xiao’s chin tipped up, it was too early to drink, or at least too bright to entertain navigating London’s maze of streets intoxicated. Perhaps Xiao was being sensitive, but he found he relied on liquor less than some men, and he was fond of keeping it that way.
Thoroughly enraptured by his own thoughts, Xiao had selfishly let his perception of the world fall to the side, so much so that he did not notice another body until he tripped into it, shoulder colliding with a stranger’s. He grit his teeth, while his arm had healed sufficiently, it still brought a grimace to his face, though Xiao was unsure whether it was the pain or the memories attached that had trained the reaction into him. “Apologies, sir.” He found himself saying, prompted before he could even think about it. “I‘m deeply sorry,” It wasn’t very English to bow as he did, but Xiao was clearly not very English anyways. “I failed to watch my step, I do hope I hadn’t caused any trouble.” He cocked his head, a gloved hand held out in front of him with a tentative half-smile.
He found he couldn’t handle the cold for too long, the wind slowly becoming Xiao’s worst enemy, but thankfully he had been able to spend most of his time browsing more secluded entreprises, where his cheeks could resist the biting sting and he could think without having to focus on the way the weather and the street combined to become even more unpredictable. That was how he found himself in a bookshop, reading, very pointedly, about the area he had found himself in. Information that he tried to commit to memory for later, but there was only so much browsing one could do before the clerk would clear their throat and inquire about a purchase, even less was available when one had Xiao’s set of features, the way he hid his face in his coat probably did nothing to encourage an innocent impression anyway.
So he found himself out on the street again, gloves pulled over his hands as he edged past a crowd on the walkway, shifting to make himself less of an obstacle. He walked by a pub, wondering if the warmth of a strong drink would be enough to satisfy the chill settling into his skin. Xiao’s chin tipped up, it was too early to drink, or at least too bright to entertain navigating London’s maze of streets intoxicated. Perhaps Xiao was being sensitive, but he found he relied on liquor less than some men, and he was fond of keeping it that way.
Thoroughly enraptured by his own thoughts, Xiao had selfishly let his perception of the world fall to the side, so much so that he did not notice another body until he tripped into it, shoulder colliding with a stranger’s. He grit his teeth, while his arm had healed sufficiently, it still brought a grimace to his face, though Xiao was unsure whether it was the pain or the memories attached that had trained the reaction into him. “Apologies, sir.” He found himself saying, prompted before he could even think about it. “I‘m deeply sorry,” It wasn’t very English to bow as he did, but Xiao was clearly not very English anyways. “I failed to watch my step, I do hope I hadn’t caused any trouble.” He cocked his head, a gloved hand held out in front of him with a tentative half-smile.
word count: 501
Mister Walker
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