[ ??? ]:

There was something strange about this person, whoever they were. People passed on the sidewalks, keeping to their own little groups, as most people do. He himself did not have a group, and apparently neither did this stranger his eyes landed on. She seemed… quiet, and… lonely? He’s not the best at reading emotions, especially from a distance. He crossed his arms over his chest, in thought.

Kristoff hardly ever approached people. It was ingrained into his head that people were bad, negative, and harmful in general. He thought he was lucky to be lost in the wilderness, adopted by trolls. He didn’t know any different, until he was dragged into actually being friends with the royalty back home. Ever since then, he subconsciously remains around people. Crowds are still high stress situations, and he still gets a bit nervous when approached, but he’s getting better.

He started slowly, at first. A sidestep in the stranger’s direction, making it slow and cautious. The park bench that she sat on looked uncomfortable, but that was fine. This was going to be a milestone for him - the first time that he will be approaching someone, and trying to make friends. He took a deep breath, and took two steps - then three - then braced himself, for there was no going back, and tried to act relaxed as he took a seat next to her on the bench.

“Uhh, hey.” He offered an awkward smile, trying to be amiable. “So, uhh… Nice park, right? Kinda quiet. It’s great, I think.” He shifted uncomfortably - what if that’s why she was here, to get away from people and have some peace? “…Sorry to bother you.” He scratched the back of his head, regretting his decision.

                 { ✘♟✘ }

No noise makes way into ruined
(or, not really, it was the brain
 and tiny devices that was)
eardrums. Instead, grievous shift
 of bench captures her
attention in full. Head snaps to
side, matching as per her startled
features; though, Hana soon
learns that gaze will have to be
directed upwards as    woah.

                                                       Okay, woah.

It takes a moment for the true
size of the other to dawn upon
her (who, she thought bitterly,
happened to probably be the
size of a flea next to him) and
pass in it’s amazement before she
drags grey eyes over towards
lips for reading. Unto all unfortunate
lack of luck, mere last portion of
words uttered is wasted upon her   
all others lost into air.

                                                       Stare is, for a moment, held and
                                                       drifting as if blind before eyebrows
                                                       raise and head quakes in a ‘no,
                                                       you weren’t’. Reach is for notebook,
                                                       yet stopped when realization is that
                                                       it is gone. Reach changes for stick
                                                       beside instead, kept for situations
                                                       such as this. Girl crouches from
                                                       bench to draw in the dirt, sketching
                                                       characters to form the subtle hints
                                                       of words.

[ i’m hana ] is the end result,
and,
when satisfied by look of it, she
taps at it with stick in mind; look
is pointed at man for 
comprehension, as well as for
asking what his would be    ah,
the uses of social conventions.