"Oh," Credence says, and it's not a bad oh so much as it's surprised. He'd spoken, yes, but he hadn't expected her to actually talk back.
Thinking back on it, it's a silly thing to be startled by--humans are humans and this is a small place, of course someone's going to talk to Credence, especially if he talks first--but he's always been a little caught off guard by things that seem perfectly normal to others.
He blinks, looking down at her shoes and then up, but only to up to where her collarbone would be before replying.
"New York City," He answers. "Um--near 42nd street, if you've ever been." He's never been outside the city. He's never been in a place like this, either. But this girl--red hair, pretty, the type of person his Ma would say is probably full of sin--is starting a conversation with him. He's happy to oblige. He's happy to pretend he's normal.
"I like how the moon looks on it. It's like powdered sugar."
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Thinking back on it, it's a silly thing to be startled by--humans are humans and this is a small place, of course someone's going to talk to Credence, especially if he talks first--but he's always been a little caught off guard by things that seem perfectly normal to others.
He blinks, looking down at her shoes and then up, but only to up to where her collarbone would be before replying.
"New York City," He answers. "Um--near 42nd street, if you've ever been." He's never been outside the city. He's never been in a place like this, either. But this girl--red hair, pretty, the type of person his Ma would say is probably full of sin--is starting a conversation with him. He's happy to oblige. He's happy to pretend he's normal.
"I like how the moon looks on it. It's like powdered sugar."