[He really didn't think he'd see the day he's seen someone as timid as him. Then again, he knew Edgar Allan Poe. But Poe was a different kind of timid. A timid man hiding an incredibly overly dramatic flair that burst out of him like fireworks at the most inconvenient moments. John had told him once that's how some writers were.]
[He wonders if this man is a writer.]
[Lovecraft ponders if he should simply leave the man be, but he has the feeling he might just hound him down and pester him if he does. Stuck between a rock and fucking hard place.]
no subject
[He wonders if this man is a writer.]
[Lovecraft ponders if he should simply leave the man be, but he has the feeling he might just hound him down and pester him if he does. Stuck between a rock and fucking hard place.]
...Alright. Go ahead, then. I will follow.
[Let's do this thing, weird man.]