[ it would have been a small mercy for his already hellish day, to have a box of cookies shoved in his direction. perhaps she'd seen how demoralized he looked, hungry and quite lost, hair a frizzled mess- but then again, when is it not. gray, dreary eyes peer up from beneath his glasses, wordlessly taking a treat from the box and bringing it to his mouth. it hits him like a lightning strike, but he can't stop chewing, and chewing, and chewing, then shallowing. ]
How old are these? [ they're stale as hell, but it doesn't stop him from reaching in to grab another. ]
ii-b
How old are these? [ they're stale as hell, but it doesn't stop him from reaching in to grab another. ]