[ She's correct: Maine is looking for a genuine answer. He chooses his words carefully and rarely wastes them. Finds speaking at length so uncomfortable that he pares his thoughts down to their most essential components. He asks the question because he genuinely wants to know; when she takes him seriously, he's not disappointed.
It's … a heavy answer. One that he can relate to, though perhaps not directly. Maine's proud of who he is, but he still strives to be better. Knows that he can improve himself. Knows that others can — and have — helped him become more.
The most significant of those influences is gone, now. Internally, he's still reeling from the loss.
He's quiet for a moment, studying her in turn. He can't guess her background at a glance, though her arms certainly say she keeps herself in shape. After a moment, he makes a quiet noise of acknowledgment, then extends a bare hand to shake.
"Maine," he almost says. Catches himself as his lips form the first letter. That's not his name here. ]
Jónsson.
[ If she takes his hand, she'll feel a hell of a lot of trepidation, but a sort of bullheaded determination muscling it out of the way. ]
no subject
It's … a heavy answer. One that he can relate to, though perhaps not directly. Maine's proud of who he is, but he still strives to be better. Knows that he can improve himself. Knows that others can — and have — helped him become more.
The most significant of those influences is gone, now. Internally, he's still reeling from the loss.
He's quiet for a moment, studying her in turn. He can't guess her background at a glance, though her arms certainly say she keeps herself in shape. After a moment, he makes a quiet noise of acknowledgment, then extends a bare hand to shake.
"Maine," he almost says. Catches himself as his lips form the first letter. That's not his name here. ]
Jónsson.
[ If she takes his hand, she'll feel a hell of a lot of trepidation, but a sort of bullheaded determination muscling it out of the way. ]