A Dim Sum Place, Manhattan, New York City, Monday Afternoon/Evening

[suitably_heroic]

He'd been living here full-time for almost two weeks now. It was starting to settle in a little bit, though that general sense of lightness hadn't quite vanished from him yet. Atton wondered if it would by the end of the summer, when he planned to start looking for an apprenticeship and work his way up to a Real Job™, but for now that was a distant prospect.

Anyway, Summer had threatened to come over, and he had threatened to let her, but they hadn't actually set a date and he was vaguely worried they'd just let it slip past them-- one of those (un)comfortable situations where a friendship just petered out on its own due to lack of maintenance. He woke up with vague thoughts on the matter that morning, and decided to just do something about it.

And now he was sitting here in a pleasantly chaotic little Hong Kong-style restaurant at a cheap-ass table, the kind where, he had learned, you tended to find the best possible food. Checking his phone. Waiting.

She probably wouldn't get distracted by anything on the way here, would she?

[[ expecting one. ]]

Comments

[somethingwithturquoise]

Summer wasn't smirking fondly at that grumbling, how dare.

"Now don't tell me that!" said Summer. "Because now I kind of want to ask what I could get that would get the best rant out of him, all so's you can go home and tell him and just listen to him go off for...how strong are we talking about? Fifteen? Twenty minutes? An hour? All night and possibly into the first thing the next morning?"

[suitably_heroic]

"On just about any other topic I'd say five minutes, tops," Atton said, "But Lana asked him about food variety in New York the other night and that one lasted at least half an hour."

He sipped his soda. "I don't think they serve the really touristy stuff here," he mused. "If you really wanted to set him off, I should've taken you to Panda Express."