[ Since his first tattoo, Minho has been regarded as a delinquent and general hooligan. Paired with his general attitude, it's only been amplified over the years. Most conservative people are overwhelmed by his presence, or find themselves basically clutching their pearls, and he... well, these days he just laughs at it. Hell, he knows he's no shucking peach. They don't need to tell him that, he's bullheaded and confident and he knows it can get abrasive or intimidating.
But he's still managed to find a better family than the foster homes he filtered through over the years, cited as a problematic child and one that the state had to juggle constantly. And of course it's with people that have known similar situations to him, have been brought together through circumstance. The first time he rode passenger on a bike, it was the same as when he ran.
So of course he joined immediately, poured the money he could get his hands on into getting a bike of his own.
Which is where he is now, outside and perched on his Harley while everyone else mills around inside the trucker station they've stopped at. Most of them are either eating or milling around before they get rolling again, but he's taking a break from the other Gladers. Even someone like him needs a moment to himself, especially since he's around them almost 24/7/365. Leaning his weight forward on his handlebars, he blows out noisily, watching truckers and roadtrippers coming and going.
It's nice enough out that he's got his jacket shucked off on the seat behind him, bare arms covered only in the vibrancy of his tattoo sleeves. Overall, he just looks like he's meant to be with a motorcycle, and these days it feels like it's true. It's going to be a long time before he retires from this life, to be honest. ]
[ getting out had been one of the hardest things thomas had ever done, but he did it. the foster system wasn't just cruel, it was screwed up--he and teresa, another girl, had been under the janson household and hated every second of it. they were treated more like lab rats than people, and getting out became their biggest, most common goal. a failed attempt at emancipation later, Teresa suggested they ignore the system and just run.
so they did.
the janson house was miles and miles away now. they'd been riding in the back of an immigrant truck for a couple of days, sleeping among hay and trying to get by. but by the time they were kicked off at a truck stop thomas wasn't quite sure what to do next. they'd only really gotten lucky a couple of times, and the cops could be anywhere, if they cared enough to try and find them.
but he was cautiously--very cautiously--optimistic. it had to go right eventually. it had to.
he'd wandered off while Teresa was in the bathroom, fixing her makeup or something, and that was when he spotted the bikes. Or, specifically, the bike, gleaming in the afternoon sunshine, with a guy leaning on it. thomas hadn't gotten to ever ride a motorcycle in his life, but as a sixteen year old boy, of course he's interested--it's amazing, and before he knows it, his feet are carrying him over.
the guy on the bike has the biggest arms he's ever seen, tattoos covering thick muscles, and he glances him over a couple of times before swallowing and leaning down. ] Cool bike.
[ Zoning back in as someone comes towards him, Minho shifts a little where he's leaning and turns his attention to them. The guy's about his age, maybe a year or so younger, and looks like he's fresh off a long trip. He's also got maybe the biggest shucking eyes he's ever seen, and he reminds him a little of Newt in that "wow you are one pretty shank" kind of way.
A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he pats his hand against the gas tank underneath his chest before he's straightening up. ] Thanks. Old but reliable.
[ When you become a runaway and surround yourself in fellow runaways, it sort of becomes easy to spot the signs in others. Alby successfully filed for emancipation before he got the hell out of Dodge and hauled Newt out after him, Gally got kicked out of his last foster home and stayed gone. They've all got their stories, and he's sure this guy does, too. Looks like he probably does, and something has him wanting to ask for details.
Which is weird, he usually doesn't really care about backstories. But Minho keeps his grin intact, shifting so that he can get one foot on the ground while the other remains on its peg. It lets him angle himself a little more towards him, and he fans his hands out to gesture at the bike he remains perched on. ] Dyna Wide Glide, anniversary edition. Prettiest bell at the ball, but think everybody'd be saying that about their bike if you asked 'em.
[ He waves that off as if it's absolute klunk, but he's proud of how he's maintained the stupid thing in its old age and kept up with the people who've been at this longer. ]
[ thomas' smile quirks up like he has any idea what that means--because, really, he doesn't, at least not right now--but the guy's enthusiasm is downright infectious. he obviously loves his bike, and thomas can totally get that. besides, it is kind of awesome, and he looks it over a little more, gaze roving over the entire thing as he tries to figure out what makes it old.
however, he picks up pretty quickly and catches his dark eyes again, head cocking a little to the side. ] Everyone?
[ so the whole lot of them were probably in some kind of gang. was thomas scared? nah. not really. it's the middle of the day, and even if it weren't, this dude isn't giving off anything particularly terrifying. (although thomas thinks that if you pissed him off, he could probably squeeze someone's head straight off with those ridiculously huge biceps.)
he was a little jealous, honestly. to be able to just leave somewhere like that, with no worries about where you'd end up or how to get there...it must be nice. it was the kind of thing thomas was hoping for with getting away from the home, a little, but hitchhiking has proven to be an undertaking probably only possible because of teresa's pretty face. ] Are you guys all together?
Edited (GIMME MY ICONS YOU SHUCKFACE) 2014-04-09 22:41 (UTC)
[ Tilting his head back and forth a little as if thinking on how to answer that, he looks up to the sky for a second before dropping his eyes back down to him. He's sort of all limbs like Newt, but two inches shorter than Minho give or take (four with his boots, he thinks, but boots). And if he were covered in any more spots, he'd probably look identical to a cheetah. How many does the guy even have on his face alone?
Grin quirking further at the second question, he turns to look at the other bikes that are lined up nearby. No one's doubled up right now, though it probably won't be long before they are considering they have assorted people that come and go throughout the year-- hell, he used to be one of them while he was working to have money to even get his own bike. ]
The ones over here are. [ He jerks a thumb over his shoulder as he twists back around to face him. ] Everybody else's inside, but we got a party of like. Fifteen right now.
[ Give or take. They've had thirty-plus before, but he kind of likes the smaller groups most of the time. Less people for him to want to slug when they've been traveling for long stretches at a time, and less people to try and squeeze into rest stops and motels and crap. ]
That's really awesome. [ and it is, it really is, because thomas is so, so jealous. from what it sounds like, they've got a whole group going--he saw some of the guys inside, jostling each other around and laughing and talking. thomas likes teresa, of course he does--they're really good friends, definitely--but it'd be nice to spend time with other people. he didn't get a lot of that at "rat man's", considering, especially with people who were actually his age. it was just him and teresa.
period. ] The guys inside, right? [ he breaks into a grin then, a little lopsided. ] They were pretty cool. Didn't look like bikers, really.
[ minho, however, totally looks the part. if he flexed, his tattoos would probably start moving. ] Where did you guys...
[ is that really an appropriate question to ask? probably not. but he wants to know. thomas, king of 1000 questions. ]
[ Minho nods at the question, clapping his hands together before letting out a small laugh. ] Yeah, nah. Like, everybody's in the range of fifteen to eighteen or something, I don't think a couple of them actually know their shucking birthdays. Don't really look the part of "biker gang," not really.
[ A few of them could look it pretty easily, like Alby or him. Gally, maybe, if you count his mean mug expression that he makes at most people. Or the psychopathic grin he flashes when he thinks he's the greatest person in the room. (He's slugged him more than once when he's made that face.) But stereotypes aside, they are what they are.
When he aborts his question, his eyebrows quirk up in silent prompting. Maybe most people might tell a guy asking questions to shuck off, but the dude's pretty harmless and who is he to say that to a pretty face nice guy? Especially one that's curious like him. ]
[ he pauses for a second, rephrases his question. ] How far out are you from where you started?
[ that's a little better, a little less hesitant--maybe a little less hopeful sounding. there's something that just looks exceedingly tempting about that, getting up and leaving, and if they're as far from home as he thinks they might be, then it's going to take a lot of his strength not to just ask straight up "hey, can I just hop on the back of your bike?"
which would probably be really weird, but it just seems right. like their idea of getting away was stupid in the first place, like this was the way someone was meant to live.
but you don't just randomly tell that to a stranger. ]
[ Well that's a question. Adjusting where he's seated, he stretches his arms one by one across his chest, thinking about his answer. On one hand, he could be vague about it because it's not really any of his business. But on the other hand, he doesn't really have anything against telling him. What'll be the harm in it? Not like the guy's been sent here to take them all back to the foster system-- can't even take the emancipated and eighteen crowd-- and...
It kind of seems, to Minho, like he needs the answer. ] Well, we started out in Denver, so.
[ He sucks on his teeth as he calculates the actual mileage they've covered since. ] We're maybe 95 miles out? And heading for New Mexico, so we've got a long, long trip ahead of us. Stopped here to gas up and get some food, and we're gonna cover a couple more hours before we hunker down for the night.
[ After processing his own words again, he offers a nod, confirming. Yeah, that sounds about right. It's one hell of a trip, but it's not as if they have anywhere else to go anymore except wherever they want. ]
[ a hundred miles. it took thomas and teresa a few days to make it that far. in order to be out on the open road and able to just leave like that? god. it might be nice to have control of your own destiny, thomas thinks, and there's this almost necessary voice in the back of his head that's telling him to ask. ] That's...whoa.
[ but, another one reminds him about teresa. he can't just leave her--they're a team, practically siblings. (at least for thomas--sometimes he thinks she might think something else.) but either way, he can't just ask some random, exceedingly attractive stranger who is currently gesturing with his ridiculously attractive arms if he can just hop on the back of his bike.
his questions are full of curiosity, and he nods his head at the answer, trying to snap the look of wonder out of his eyes for a second and focus on the business of the matter. he smiles a little, nodding in return. ] Did you guys have an initiation rite, or something?
[ he says it in a slightly joking tone, but he literally could not be more serious. ]
[ If his newfound company thinks he's being subtle, Minho would like to give him a few pointers on it-- and he's, personally, literally the bull in a China shop stereotype most of the time. Amusement lights in his expression, and his grin goes crooked around the edges even as it sickles his eyes the slightest bit. ]
Well, depends. [ Bringing his hand up, he starts ticking things off on his fingers. ] Do you have a criminal record? If so, are you considered a menace to society or just a delinquent? Is there anyone out there that would look for you? If so, are you on the run from them due to the law or for your own well-being?
[ They aren't questions that Alby typically asks, because Alby can take one look at a person and know whether they're going to be trouble or not. Beyond that, he figures out whether they'll be worth the trouble or not. So far, Gally hasn't given him reason to kick him out yet, but Minho's honestly just waiting for it.
His questions for this dude, though, are mostly playful and it's obvious in his underlying tone. But at the same time, he's sort of gauging him, seeing what his answers will be and what his reasoning for the questions might be. ]
[ oh, well, asian biker guy completely knows what tree he's barking up.
crap.
he should probably be more worried about this. thomas looks at him for a second like he's crazy for maybe two seconds before it clicks; he tilts his head left and right like he's pondering. ] No, questionably, not anyone who I want to find me, and it's a long story?
[ he trails off the end of his sentence a little hopefully, probably sounding just as much like an idiot as he figures he does, but, whatever. teresa's going to kill him the minute she gets outside and sees this, but that's okay. without really saying much, thomas just admitted pretty much everything about his life to this guy, but if he was like he was claiming, well. he'd get it. ]
If that's the case, then you wouldn't be that out of place here. [ He dismissively waves his hand back towards where the rest of the gang is still mostly inside, though he's spotted a couple coming and going in and out. They're probably gearing up to fill their tanks, stretch their legs, the whole spiel. ] Most of us are either runaways of the state or got out when we could.
[ That's punctuate with a sarcastic set of jazz hands, obviously less than thrilled with the idea of the foster system and orphanages, et al. Minho's basically been on the run for the better part of two years, but they've either given up or he's covered up so well that no one's managed to catch up to him.
Thank shuck for that. Rather be stuck with these slinthead Gladers than back there again. ]
I mean, long stories all around. But we're basically the Lost Boys of motorcycle gangs, or something.
[ thomas huffs out a breath in response and tries not to get excited at the singular spark of hope in his chest--it'd be great to go with them, it really would. ] I get that, you have no idea. Hitchhiking really sucks.
[ it feels kind of good to have let that off his shoulders. talking to this guy is easy and kind of familiar, as if they'd been friends forever. it's kind of weird, but it's kind of nice, at the same time; he hadn't exactly had the chance to click with a lot of people.
but this dude, he's apparently the start of a new rule. he can't help the way he smiles, just a tiny bit, at the jazz hands, and adds on-- ] I'm Thomas.
God, hitchhiking is shucking balls. [ He's been there, done that. It's probably a good thing he could slug the first person that tried something skeevy, regardless of whether they had a weapon pulled on him or not. Because man, that was a vaguely terrifying moment in his life when he was younger.
Minho cocks his head at the smile on his face, strangely distracted for a moment before he catches the name. There's something different in the way he looks now, like he's let go of something, and hey-- more power to him.
Feels kind of good to help cause that, though. So he can't help but smile back a bit more than he does grin. ] Minho. You got any idea where you're going, Thomas?
[ shucking? he almost wants to ask, but figures it's probably gang slang, or something, so thomas keeps his mouth shut on that one for now. the guy--minho--seems to soften a little, and thomas' shoulders relax, any pent up stress starting to just fade away. hitchhiking has sucked. it has been awful. to know someone random in the world's been through the same crap is a really liberating feeling. ]
Wherever the next truck decides to go, I guess. [ he shifts a shoulder in the direction of the lot, then looks back over his shoulder. teresa is...
teresa is talking to another boy in a leather jacket.
his mouth falls open and he stares, totally unabashedly for a second, because--did that just happen? did his luck just totally go the right way? is this gonna be a thing? ] With her, but, she...likes you guys too, I guess.
[ Trying to explain Glader slang to people is kind of difficult sometimes, so the fact that he's not asking is probably a good thing for now. Minho picked up on it fast, and... if the guy bums rides off of them, then he'll figure it out himself eventually. If not, it'll be hilarious to watch him try to, at least. But the fact of the matter is that they both are in agreement that hitchhiking is awful, and he can't help but scrunch his face a little at the idea of him hopping on another truck.
But then his eyes follow his gaze to the dark-haired girl talking to Aris, who he's honestly not that fond of. The guy acts nice, but he just gives him a vibe that has him distrusting anything he says or does until a different guy speaks up. ]
Looks that way, don't it? [ Hand lifting, he lifts his chin up to scratch a little at his throat, cupping his elbow with the other hand as he considers the scene in front of him, this Thomas guy. ] I mean, I've got a two-seater and a bunch of the other guys do, too. So.
[ the look on his face could probably be attuned to that of a hopeful puppy, although thomas himself doesn't know that--he's kind of shocked and hopeful and excited that minho literally just offered him a way out. ] Seriously?
[ he glances back at teresa, who is seriously deep in conversation with that other dude. it wouldn't seem too far fetched, and she's always been the adventurous one. and besides, thomas is sick of weird guys leering at her every time they try to hop a car--that's his sister, basically--and this would at least be a...sort of known weird guy. maybe.
minho himself seems pretty trustworthy. from what he said, the rest can't be too far behind him. ] I--we have a little bit of money, and stuff, so we can help you guys with whatever you need, or...yeah, yeah, that'd. That'd be awesome.
I ain't saying stuff just for giggles, man. [ Minho laughs a little at the literal puppy face that he's being given, the hopeful surprise that just washes over him completely. Swinging his leg over the side of his bike, he straightens on both feet and grabs hold of his jacket so that it's not just sitting there for any shank to come by and take. ]
Here, c'mon dude. We'll go talk to Newt and Alby. They're like the biker parents, basically, and it'd take all of two minutes to convince them to be cool with it if your chick friend hasn't already. [ And just like that, he reaches to give him a nudge to his shoulder towards the entrance, moving himself.
Could they be out of their minds and the type to wait until they're asleep to do something like steal their bikes, or kill them in their sleep? Maybe. But those big doe eyes either lull him into a false sense of security, or are the most sincere things he's ever seen in his life. ]
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Is this when Thomas joins them is he already joined WHO KNOWS
But he's still managed to find a better family than the foster homes he filtered through over the years, cited as a problematic child and one that the state had to juggle constantly. And of course it's with people that have known similar situations to him, have been brought together through circumstance. The first time he rode passenger on a bike, it was the same as when he ran.
So of course he joined immediately, poured the money he could get his hands on into getting a bike of his own.
Which is where he is now, outside and perched on his Harley while everyone else mills around inside the trucker station they've stopped at. Most of them are either eating or milling around before they get rolling again, but he's taking a break from the other Gladers. Even someone like him needs a moment to himself, especially since he's around them almost 24/7/365. Leaning his weight forward on his handlebars, he blows out noisily, watching truckers and roadtrippers coming and going.
It's nice enough out that he's got his jacket shucked off on the seat behind him, bare arms covered only in the vibrancy of his tattoo sleeves. Overall, he just looks like he's meant to be with a motorcycle, and these days it feels like it's true. It's going to be a long time before he retires from this life, to be honest. ]
Let's go with just before.
so they did.
the janson house was miles and miles away now. they'd been riding in the back of an immigrant truck for a couple of days, sleeping among hay and trying to get by. but by the time they were kicked off at a truck stop thomas wasn't quite sure what to do next. they'd only really gotten lucky a couple of times, and the cops could be anywhere, if they cared enough to try and find them.
but he was cautiously--very cautiously--optimistic. it had to go right eventually. it had to.
he'd wandered off while Teresa was in the bathroom, fixing her makeup or something, and that was when he spotted the bikes. Or, specifically, the bike, gleaming in the afternoon sunshine, with a guy leaning on it. thomas hadn't gotten to ever ride a motorcycle in his life, but as a sixteen year old boy, of course he's interested--it's amazing, and before he knows it, his feet are carrying him over.
the guy on the bike has the biggest arms he's ever seen, tattoos covering thick muscles, and he glances him over a couple of times before swallowing and leaning down. ] Cool bike.
claps
A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he pats his hand against the gas tank underneath his chest before he's straightening up. ] Thanks. Old but reliable.
[ When you become a runaway and surround yourself in fellow runaways, it sort of becomes easy to spot the signs in others. Alby successfully filed for emancipation before he got the hell out of Dodge and hauled Newt out after him, Gally got kicked out of his last foster home and stayed gone. They've all got their stories, and he's sure this guy does, too. Looks like he probably does, and something has him wanting to ask for details.
Which is weird, he usually doesn't really care about backstories. But Minho keeps his grin intact, shifting so that he can get one foot on the ground while the other remains on its peg. It lets him angle himself a little more towards him, and he fans his hands out to gesture at the bike he remains perched on. ] Dyna Wide Glide, anniversary edition. Prettiest bell at the ball, but think everybody'd be saying that about their bike if you asked 'em.
[ He waves that off as if it's absolute klunk, but he's proud of how he's maintained the stupid thing in its old age and kept up with the people who've been at this longer. ]
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however, he picks up pretty quickly and catches his dark eyes again, head cocking a little to the side. ] Everyone?
[ so the whole lot of them were probably in some kind of gang. was thomas scared? nah. not really. it's the middle of the day, and even if it weren't, this dude isn't giving off anything particularly terrifying. (although thomas thinks that if you pissed him off, he could probably squeeze someone's head straight off with those ridiculously huge biceps.)
he was a little jealous, honestly. to be able to just leave somewhere like that, with no worries about where you'd end up or how to get there...it must be nice. it was the kind of thing thomas was hoping for with getting away from the home, a little, but hitchhiking has proven to be an undertaking probably only possible because of teresa's pretty face. ] Are you guys all together?
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Grin quirking further at the second question, he turns to look at the other bikes that are lined up nearby. No one's doubled up right now, though it probably won't be long before they are considering they have assorted people that come and go throughout the year-- hell, he used to be one of them while he was working to have money to even get his own bike. ]
The ones over here are. [ He jerks a thumb over his shoulder as he twists back around to face him. ] Everybody else's inside, but we got a party of like. Fifteen right now.
[ Give or take. They've had thirty-plus before, but he kind of likes the smaller groups most of the time. Less people for him to want to slug when they've been traveling for long stretches at a time, and less people to try and squeeze into rest stops and motels and crap. ]
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period. ] The guys inside, right? [ he breaks into a grin then, a little lopsided. ] They were pretty cool. Didn't look like bikers, really.
[ minho, however, totally looks the part. if he flexed, his tattoos would probably start moving. ] Where did you guys...
[ is that really an appropriate question to ask? probably not. but he wants to know. thomas, king of 1000 questions. ]
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[ A few of them could look it pretty easily, like Alby or him. Gally, maybe, if you count his mean mug expression that he makes at most people. Or the psychopathic grin he flashes when he thinks he's the greatest person in the room. (He's slugged him more than once when he's made that face.) But stereotypes aside, they are what they are.
When he aborts his question, his eyebrows quirk up in silent prompting. Maybe most people might tell a guy asking questions to shuck off, but the dude's pretty harmless and who is he to say that to a
pretty facenice guy? Especially one that's curious like him. ]no subject
[ that's a little better, a little less hesitant--maybe a little less hopeful sounding. there's something that just looks exceedingly tempting about that, getting up and leaving, and if they're as far from home as he thinks they might be, then it's going to take a lot of his strength not to just ask straight up "hey, can I just hop on the back of your bike?"
which would probably be really weird, but it just seems right. like their idea of getting away was stupid in the first place, like this was the way someone was meant to live.
but you don't just randomly tell that to a stranger. ]
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It kind of seems, to Minho, like he needs the answer. ] Well, we started out in Denver, so.
[ He sucks on his teeth as he calculates the actual mileage they've covered since. ] We're maybe 95 miles out? And heading for New Mexico, so we've got a long, long trip ahead of us. Stopped here to gas up and get some food, and we're gonna cover a couple more hours before we hunker down for the night.
[ After processing his own words again, he offers a nod, confirming. Yeah, that sounds about right. It's one hell of a trip, but it's not as if they have anywhere else to go anymore except wherever they want. ]
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[ but, another one reminds him about teresa. he can't just leave her--they're a team, practically siblings. (at least for thomas--sometimes he thinks she might think something else.) but either way, he can't just ask some random, exceedingly attractive stranger who is currently gesturing with his ridiculously attractive arms if he can just hop on the back of his bike.
his questions are full of curiosity, and he nods his head at the answer, trying to snap the look of wonder out of his eyes for a second and focus on the business of the matter. he smiles a little, nodding in return. ] Did you guys have an initiation rite, or something?
[ he says it in a slightly joking tone, but he literally could not be more serious. ]
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Well, depends. [ Bringing his hand up, he starts ticking things off on his fingers. ] Do you have a criminal record? If so, are you considered a menace to society or just a delinquent? Is there anyone out there that would look for you? If so, are you on the run from them due to the law or for your own well-being?
[ They aren't questions that Alby typically asks, because Alby can take one look at a person and know whether they're going to be trouble or not. Beyond that, he figures out whether they'll be worth the trouble or not. So far, Gally hasn't given him reason to kick him out yet, but Minho's honestly just waiting for it.
His questions for this dude, though, are mostly playful and it's obvious in his underlying tone. But at the same time, he's sort of gauging him, seeing what his answers will be and what his reasoning for the questions might be. ]
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crap.
he should probably be more worried about this. thomas looks at him for a second like he's crazy for maybe two seconds before it clicks; he tilts his head left and right like he's pondering. ] No, questionably, not anyone who I want to find me, and it's a long story?
[ he trails off the end of his sentence a little hopefully, probably sounding just as much like an idiot as he figures he does, but, whatever. teresa's going to kill him the minute she gets outside and sees this, but that's okay. without really saying much, thomas just admitted pretty much everything about his life to this guy, but if he was like he was claiming, well. he'd get it. ]
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[ That's punctuate with a sarcastic set of jazz hands, obviously less than thrilled with the idea of the foster system and orphanages, et al. Minho's basically been on the run for the better part of two years, but they've either given up or he's covered up so well that no one's managed to catch up to him.
Thank shuck for that. Rather be stuck with these slinthead Gladers than back there again. ]
I mean, long stories all around. But we're basically the Lost Boys of motorcycle gangs, or something.
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[ it feels kind of good to have let that off his shoulders. talking to this guy is easy and kind of familiar, as if they'd been friends forever. it's kind of weird, but it's kind of nice, at the same time; he hadn't exactly had the chance to click with a lot of people.
but this dude, he's apparently the start of a new rule. he can't help the way he smiles, just a tiny bit, at the jazz hands, and adds on-- ] I'm Thomas.
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Minho cocks his head at the smile on his face, strangely distracted for a moment before he catches the name. There's something different in the way he looks now, like he's let go of something, and hey-- more power to him.
Feels kind of good to help cause that, though. So he can't help but smile back a bit more than he does grin. ] Minho. You got any idea where you're going, Thomas?
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Wherever the next truck decides to go, I guess. [ he shifts a shoulder in the direction of the lot, then looks back over his shoulder. teresa is...
teresa is talking to another boy in a leather jacket.
his mouth falls open and he stares, totally unabashedly for a second, because--did that just happen? did his luck just totally go the right way? is this gonna be a thing? ] With her, but, she...likes you guys too, I guess.
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But then his eyes follow his gaze to the dark-haired girl talking to Aris, who he's honestly not that fond of. The guy acts nice, but he just gives him a vibe that has him distrusting anything he says or does until a different guy speaks up. ]
Looks that way, don't it? [ Hand lifting, he lifts his chin up to scratch a little at his throat, cupping his elbow with the other hand as he considers the scene in front of him, this Thomas guy. ] I mean, I've got a two-seater and a bunch of the other guys do, too. So.
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[ he glances back at teresa, who is seriously deep in conversation with that other dude. it wouldn't seem too far fetched, and she's always been the adventurous one. and besides, thomas is sick of weird guys leering at her every time they try to hop a car--that's his sister, basically--and this would at least be a...sort of known weird guy. maybe.
minho himself seems pretty trustworthy. from what he said, the rest can't be too far behind him. ] I--we have a little bit of money, and stuff, so we can help you guys with whatever you need, or...yeah, yeah, that'd. That'd be awesome.
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Here, c'mon dude. We'll go talk to Newt and Alby. They're like the biker parents, basically, and it'd take all of two minutes to convince them to be cool with it if your chick friend hasn't already. [ And just like that, he reaches to give him a nudge to his shoulder towards the entrance, moving himself.
Could they be out of their minds and the type to wait until they're asleep to do something like steal their bikes, or kill them in their sleep? Maybe. But those big doe eyes either lull him into a false sense of security, or are the most sincere things he's ever seen in his life. ]