He'd been absorbed in a chapter--engrossed despite the fact that he most likely knows it by heart--when Logan sits back and his face is clear. Credence panics.

It's a jump, shoulders pressed in, leaning as far away from his as possible--away from pointed nose and square jaw, away from Logan. He's met him. Once, in the winter. He'd tried--desperately--to come out of his shell and try to meet a newcomer. What he got instead was pinned to a wall, unable to answer the other's demands.

That's right. Since May, more people have arrived. This one isn't the other, clearly, and very carefully Credence, as cautious as ever, resumes his position, even if he's still owlishly blinking.

He can do this. He can stay calm. This one isn't angry.

"Only sometimes, sir." He makes a point to hit the word sir as a reminder that he's being polite, just in case he has a temper. "I've only got one--for Christmas."

He can do this.

"D-do you... Do you read?"