[ Not helping poor Henry is the fact that Alec's father cuts an intimidating figure. A former mercenary-turned-mechanic, he has a look of an old soldier, grizzled and tattooed and so often covered in grease it almost feels like a permanent fixture in the creases of his hands.
His eyes flick up - brown, in contrast to Alec's green - to look at the other boy. A smile cuts through is beard, crinkles the corners of his eyes. ]
Any time. We're happy to have you.
[ The "house" for want of a better term, is a far cry from the one Henry just came from. A simple apartment over a simple garage, packed into a less-than-savory neighborhood. The sign advertising the place as a mechanic's shop has gone dark, closed for the night. Thomas lets them in through the garage - empty of a customer's vehicle - and Henry might get the sense that they're passing through something. A tickle at the edge of his mind.
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His eyes flick up - brown, in contrast to Alec's green - to look at the other boy. A smile cuts through is beard, crinkles the corners of his eyes. ]
Any time. We're happy to have you.
[ The "house" for want of a better term, is a far cry from the one Henry just came from. A simple apartment over a simple garage, packed into a less-than-savory neighborhood. The sign advertising the place as a mechanic's shop has gone dark, closed for the night. Thomas lets them in through the garage - empty of a customer's vehicle - and Henry might get the sense that they're passing through something. A tickle at the edge of his mind.
A very small sense... of magic. ]