Sleep patterns. [Rach]

Nathan Fuller was being his ordinary, pessimistic self. Glancing up every time someone passes him--which is a lot for a library. He rolls his eyes at them in a passive-aggressive manner, annoyed at thier existence. He buries his head in his hoodie, attempting to read, but, no. His ears have to perk up and listen to every waking (and sleeping, as someone's asleep on the floor talking nonsense) conversation. Excuse his ADD. He slumps back in his chair, resting his feet the chair nearby, as he covers his eyes beneath his hood. The child of Ares nods off in silence, only to to be awakened by a thud. Uttering a swear underneath his breath, he tries to remain calm.... but no one ruins his sleep. No one.

Nathan blinks his hood out of his eyes, just enough to see the culprit: a what-you-would-call-pretty-brunette-that-had-a-too-friendly-vibe. Yep, Nathan doesn't like her already. Oh, is he being judgmental? He. Doesn't. Care. "Thanks." he mutters in a passive tone. He refuses to be the "gentleman" today. She. Ruined. His. Sleep. She deserves this silent treatment and guilt. He glares at her through half-closed eyes, feeling a lump in his throat and his blood boil. He swivels the chair around, avoiding contact with her, gritting his teeth in fury.

Nathan huffs, pretending as if the guilt boiling inside him is nothing. He closes his eyes again, but her presence is just making him terribly uneasy. He kicks his feet back down from the table, feeling more awake than before. "I am so sorry." he groans, rolling his eyes and swiveling his chair to face her. "I'm sorry no one likes you." he smirks, resisting the urge to call her a much nastier things. He pulls his hood off his head and smiles in pleasant satisfaction.

Nathan sits back, pleased with her outburst. "You know all about me, huh?" he grimaces uncontrollably. He fiddles with his thumbs subconsciously. "I don't live life to impress worthless...." he stops himself from cussing, as the gods may hear him. ".... people." acting on impulse (a problem of his), he arises from his seat, only to lean down to her seated position and press his warm lips to hers. Suddenly realizing what he had done, he jumps back, feeling the blood rush to his face. She looks cute when she's mad, alright? the hotness he's feeling is the your-teacher-makes-you-get-up-in-front-of-class-and-speak kind. The one that leaves you embarrassed and paranoid that everyone's watching you.

Nathan sits before her, his grin widening more-so. "You stood up for yourself." he nods at her. "I guess I kind of liked that." he shrugs, suggesting to himself that he might have been testing the girl. He sits back, as if nothing had happened, cautiously and secretively, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He shakes one out, igniting it with his ever-present lighter. "I don't think I formally introduced myself." he takes a long drag on the cigarette, craving the taste. "I'm Nathan."

"Well," Nathan begins, but stops as she introduces herself, "Paisley." he pauses, thinking up a quick response. "I guess it's habit." he shrugs again, half not wanting to admit that she was right with her earlier snark comment. Yeah.... er, when he was fourteen, he tried it because "all the cool kids were doing it" and the terrible habit started. "It is pretty gross, now that you mention it." he crushes the burning cigarette in his fingertips, stamping out the tiny flame. He raises his eyes at her gesture, unsure of what to do with her hand. He makes a odd face, lasting only a second, and takes her hand in his, making their meeting official.

Nathan returns her smile, blushing in an embarrassed manner. He licks his lower lip, taking in what she said. "Maybe both?" he picks at the ends of his jacket sleeves, subconsciously, before looking her in the eyes. He could get lost in them, just swallowing himself up in their vibrancy. "I'll tell you later." she's still a stranger. She doesn't have to know everything. Nor does he have to tell her.

Nathan, finding her gesture intriguing, does the same on the other end of the table. They're both centimeters apart from touching. He bounces his nose on hers, "Eskimo kiss." he explains, matter-of-fact, ending with a sly smile. He studies her again, almost forgetting her question. She's just so, well, cute. "What?" he blinks, "Oh, this would be my first."