( yato, yato, yato... she's still visibly frowning and trying to focus; trying to parse out how or where she might know him from, and how he'd managed to get her something that clarke barely remembers ever having asked for out loud. )
Hi, Yato. ( carefully, very carefully, and lacking sincerity around the nice part of this pleasantry — ) It's nice to meet you. ( but then that instantly feels weird and, not because of any lasting memory of the man, but because of the fact he knew her name, room number enough to text her, and latest passion project clarke feels compelled to tack on: ) Again?
( but it comes out awkwardly, and way more a question than it should have. so then she just clears her throat. looks yato head to toe, but then immediately zeroes in on the sword by his side and... huh. )
no subject
Hi, Yato. ( carefully, very carefully, and lacking sincerity around the nice part of this pleasantry — ) It's nice to meet you. ( but then that instantly feels weird and, not because of any lasting memory of the man, but because of the fact he knew her name, room number enough to text her, and latest passion project clarke feels compelled to tack on: ) Again?
( but it comes out awkwardly, and way more a question than it should have. so then she just clears her throat. looks yato head to toe, but then immediately zeroes in on the sword by his side and... huh. )
It looks nice, but so normal.