[ It works-- the heavy hand on his shoulder's enough to jerk Jefferson from the story he's telling to anyone who'll listen. It's nonsense, surely, the sort of thing he'd probably get sent to a psych ER over. (Something that he thinks might've happened before. A week ago, he was certain that memories of his nervous breakdown were true. Now, he's not so sure.)
He whips around, unbalanced and very nearly stumbling as he faces the man. He recognizes him as a sometime-customer at the shop, getting the occasional order to go. Jefferson stares at him for a bit longer, then leans in to let him in on a secret: ]
I don't belong here...
[ He pulls back, a laugh breaking through his troubled demeanor. ]
no subject
He whips around, unbalanced and very nearly stumbling as he faces the man. He recognizes him as a sometime-customer at the shop, getting the occasional order to go. Jefferson stares at him for a bit longer, then leans in to let him in on a secret: ]
I don't belong here...
[ He pulls back, a laugh breaking through his troubled demeanor. ]
It's obvious, isn't it?