[He is going gray. It's just hard to see unless you're up close because of how light his hair is.]
[He squirms when York noogies him.]
Hey, c'mon, knock it off.
[He squirms even harder when it feels like York's hand is touching his head a little too much.]
Let go!
[He manages to duck away but doesn't look like he's suspicious of York's motives. As far as Wash knows he's just being a little extra careful to make sure no one notices the scar - he doesn't realize York was actually feeling his head on purpose to find it.]
[So he just pelts a few blackberries at him and goes back to picking more.]
We're not in high school.
[He doesn't realize what York was just able to feel: a curved scar on the side of his head, like someone might have from brain surgery.]
[ He’s still smiling, but he is genuinely apologetic... he doesn’t like sneaking around Wash like this when the other man seems to have warmed to him. It’ll be okay, he tells himself, he’s trying to help.
The scar is right where Stacia said it would be, and feels new.
He shakes it off, files the information away to tell her later and focuses instead on just spending time with his friend. A blackberry hits him on the cheek and leaves a stain of juice right beneath his own scar. He doesn’t think to reach up to wipe it away, just picks a few more and pops them in his mouth. ]
So how’d you get to be friends with the Easter Bunny? He seemed a little skittish of me when I was in here with him.
no subject
[He is going gray. It's just hard to see unless you're up close because of how light his hair is.]
[He squirms when York noogies him.]
Hey, c'mon, knock it off.
[He squirms even harder when it feels like York's hand is touching his head a little too much.]
Let go!
[He manages to duck away but doesn't look like he's suspicious of York's motives. As far as Wash knows he's just being a little extra careful to make sure no one notices the scar - he doesn't realize York was actually feeling his head on purpose to find it.]
[So he just pelts a few blackberries at him and goes back to picking more.]
We're not in high school.
[He doesn't realize what York was just able to feel: a curved scar on the side of his head, like someone might have from brain surgery.]
no subject
[ He’s still smiling, but he is genuinely apologetic... he doesn’t like sneaking around Wash like this when the other man seems to have warmed to him. It’ll be okay, he tells himself, he’s trying to help.
The scar is right where Stacia said it would be, and feels new.
He shakes it off, files the information away to tell her later and focuses instead on just spending time with his friend. A blackberry hits him on the cheek and leaves a stain of juice right beneath his own scar. He doesn’t think to reach up to wipe it away, just picks a few more and pops them in his mouth. ]
So how’d you get to be friends with the Easter Bunny? He seemed a little skittish of me when I was in here with him.