To say that he’s had a lot on his mind and his, metaphorical, plate of late would be the understatement of the year; he feels out of place and filled to the brim with the stress of having to deal with the inevitable collateral damage that came with his father’s untimely death, and getting used to be back, here, of all places, he, of all people–it is weird, the prospect of spending months on end here, in the same place, a concept he is entirely unfamiliar with–it feels strange and uncomfortable.
So, presently, he is more than just a little unfocused and absentminded, face tucked down and staring at his phone as he walks down Main, his head dizzy with the dozen of errands he has to run before heading back to the farm–so, as he walks, he honestly doesn’t even think to take note of anyone else around him. This, ultimately, leads to a near head-on collision with someone, which draws a mumbled curse from him, because, what the fuck?
“fuck. Shit, I’m sorry” he instinctively, mindlessly, reaches out to lightly touch their arm in a subtle display of apology. ”–are you okay?“