"Well, I am," he replies immediately in his fake-prim teasing voice. "I'm sure if you need help they'll be willing to supply you with something else. Like chicken nuggets. You can eat those with your hands."
As it turns out, they actually do have something like chicken nuggets, and Felix can't help but laugh and add them to the order when he realizes. Different worlds or not, there only seem to be a few things on the menu he doesn't recognize; and still in the lead, here, he manages to get them settled with food and drink on the patio, overlooking the beach, without much incident. He goes quiet then for a moment, folding his arms against the narrow rail running around the patio, leaning forward to look out over the beach again.
And again, Racetrack's words creep back into his head, as little as he wants them there. The problem is, for the first time in a long while it's hard, really hard not to think of home. He's sort of inviting it, really, doing all this exploration. It's hardly a proper distraction when he can't help but compare everything.
And so, despite his best efforts, his expression starts to wear at the edges, his smile growing softer and more wistful before fading entirely. "We had winter, too," he says quietly. "A lot of winter. I guess it wasn't so bad where I lived... just a klick from the shore, you know, so it could never get that cold. It only ever really got cold in the mountains, but... that's home for you. It's all either mountains or shoreline."
He doesn't look up, or away from the shore, not once, and he's not sure he wants Dean to ask questions. He's not even sure he wants Dean to acknowledge he said anything at all. He smiles, suddenly, as if to dismiss the entire thing. "Anyway."
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As it turns out, they actually do have something like chicken nuggets, and Felix can't help but laugh and add them to the order when he realizes. Different worlds or not, there only seem to be a few things on the menu he doesn't recognize; and still in the lead, here, he manages to get them settled with food and drink on the patio, overlooking the beach, without much incident. He goes quiet then for a moment, folding his arms against the narrow rail running around the patio, leaning forward to look out over the beach again.
And again, Racetrack's words creep back into his head, as little as he wants them there. The problem is, for the first time in a long while it's hard, really hard not to think of home. He's sort of inviting it, really, doing all this exploration. It's hardly a proper distraction when he can't help but compare everything.
And so, despite his best efforts, his expression starts to wear at the edges, his smile growing softer and more wistful before fading entirely. "We had winter, too," he says quietly. "A lot of winter. I guess it wasn't so bad where I lived... just a klick from the shore, you know, so it could never get that cold. It only ever really got cold in the mountains, but... that's home for you. It's all either mountains or shoreline."
He doesn't look up, or away from the shore, not once, and he's not sure he wants Dean to ask questions. He's not even sure he wants Dean to acknowledge he said anything at all. He smiles, suddenly, as if to dismiss the entire thing. "Anyway."