[So long as Sebastian's here, he supposes he might as well see if he can find some kind of memento for Aziz, and a book seems like a great idea. Now if only he could get some service.] Hello? Excuse me, hello?
I'm a museum curator, so... w-whatever we're focusing on that particular month. [That wasn't what he meant, of course, but it's better than saying the occult. Booth is however a terrible liar and it shows, sheepish, on his face.]
Oh. [Sebastian might have a bit of an inferiority complex when it comes to people who're clearly smarter than him. His eyes are a bit wider as he speaks.] What kind of a museum is it?
Oh. Um. Anything, really. Anything that will get people inside. We, ah, we had an exhibit on Mildred Truelove Stapleton, when she- when she died. And for a while, we had the V-Venebretti Necklace. [Booth has, upon putting the books down, placed his hands in his pockets, and is awkwardly shuffling his feet. Talking about himself, and his remarkably unremarkable life, reminds him how small and insignificant he truly is. It isn't a nice feeling.]
[Sebastian hasn't heard of any of this. Perhaps Aziz would know them, though that doesn't help him out at all right now. In any case, best not to let on that he's ignorant of everything this fellow does; he pastes a smile on his face and tries to look intrigued.] That sounds very nice, Mr. Booth. I might have to find a way to your museum someday.
W-we would be happy to have you. [That's the polite thing to say, right? It seems like the conversation is winding down, and Booth never feels like he knows the correct way to end things like these. He longs for the safety and solitude of his own apartment.] It's the Samuel Mather Parrington, of c-course. I hope these books find you well.
The Samuel Mather Parrington. Is that in Manhattan? [If not, he's going to look quite stupid. Sebastian already regrets asking, but he is mildly curious.]
Then I'll be sure to come to visit sometime. Thank you, Mr. Booth. [As Sebastian has no other tokens of appreciation to offer, he leans in and up to press a light kiss to Booth's cheek.]
[Booth sees what's about to happen and scrambles backward to avoid it, inevitably overbalancing over a pile of books and falling over with a yelp. He's left mortified, sprawled on the ground with a spreading embarrassed blush on his face, thinking privately that if he were to die in this moment, it would not be an unwelcome turn of events.]
Oh--oh, are you all right? [Sebastian's not going to apologize, but he will at least put a hand out to help Mr. Booth out. If only he'd simply stood still, there'd have been no trouble.]
[Booth is still dead set on not having to touch anyone today, so he scrambles to his feet on his own, avoiding meeting Viola's gaze in the process.] I-I-I am fine. Are you- that is... I dislike being touched. [Despite being fairly tall, Booth still manages to make himself seem small and awkward, shoulders hunched in on himself.]
Oh. [Well, now Sebastian feels bad, though really, he could have just said. It's with some reluctance that he apologizes, watching Mr. Booth cringe.] I'm sorry. If I'd known...
No, n-no, it's... [Hardly this poor woman's fault for Booth's own social failings. He has no idea how to reassure her.] I a-am quite apart in my, ah, eccentricities, I assure you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject