He watches silently the the descent of the object that falls from her without her realizing it. There’s a tug on his jacket ( gray, purplish eyes travel quickly to watch her closer, even if she’s turned ). He can’t help but indulge himself if she knows her from somewhere, but probably is just his imagination.
He leaves his katana aside (facing his back), and crouches deftly, grabbing the object with his hands, fingers now close around the object. Then he stands up, and impulses himself towards her, the free hand skim lightly over her shoulder: and half-smile lazily-yet-halfheartedly cracks along thin lips.
“ You dropped this. ”
✕♕✕
❝hn?❞
A faint hum before spinning on heels
to face the one who had reached for her.
Gaze falls toward the other’s hand in which she can recall the fallen object.
Brows slowly knit together as hand extends to meet the stranger’s
fingers gently plucking the sheet of paper from between.
❝oh, thanks I didn’t feel it slip from my pocket.❞