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— » 003 » 005 QUARTERS | THIRD LEVEL SEAMSTRESS | FIFTH LEVEL PETYR'S LIBARY | FIFTH LEVEL DEVICE, IN-PERSON, BY RAVEN

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[ripstides]

[ he waits her out, thinking nothing of the noises he can hear through the wall. maybe she's cleaning up. he knows that's what he'd be doing. he uses the word cleaning sparingly though. Percy can't picture Alayne with clothes littering the floor or defending the idea that it might be a mess but at least it's her own mess. yeah, no way. she's definitely not tidying up her room in there but whatever it is, he bets it's important.

the glide of he door forces him to full height, to present himself before her. he'd ask her to sit with him but she's not a girl from his century, or even his decade, and he won't submit her to offense regardless of what she thinks she owes him.

if her hair is limp and lifeless (it's not) he must look homeless. like some savage that sleeps in the hall and rebels against all guidelines for personal hygiene. alright, maybe it's not that awful. he has a bedroom and he believes in showering daily - points in his favor, he figures. Percy only worries about what he looks like because he has the time to and because she makes it seem important. with one arm folded against his chest, he bows to her in the only way he knows how. maybe his feet are wrong or his hand placement is off but it's the attempt of the custom, better that than to ignore her. ]

Hello, Sansa Stark. [ her phrasing tugs at his lips, makes him laugh. ] I wasn't sure if this was your room. I've heard that people can change if they want to. Move floors, or just take up the place next door if nobody's staying there.

Me? [ this is the dismissal of a guy that doesn't think about himself too much. ] Yeah, I'm good. Can't complain.

[ he pushes his hands in his pockets, looks down, shifts his feet. he's looking up through his hair, chewing the corner of his bottom lip. ] How have you been doing?