[ he catches the boy's scent and responds to it just in time to get a face-full of volleyball. it's a good thing he's not a normally loud person, because he gives nothing more than a strangled sound, half-muffled by the ball colliding against his mouth as his body is pitched backwards in his surprise.
he doesn't knock back against any shelves, thankfully, but he does wind up on his back, once more, thanks to this kid... this better not be a damned habit.
he sits back up, though, but his movements are slower, pointedly strained. the ball's rolling away, forgotten, his entire attention on the boy on the other end of the aisle.
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he doesn't knock back against any shelves, thankfully, but he does wind up on his back, once more, thanks to this kid... this better not be a damned habit.
he sits back up, though, but his movements are slower, pointedly strained. the ball's rolling away, forgotten, his entire attention on the boy on the other end of the aisle.
what the actual hell??? ]