 *randomly tagged* | Norbert(a) | The Wandmaker (tm)
It had been approximately 1.5 years since he had attempted to try and eat in the food court. 18 months of anxieties regarding public spaces at work. 78 weeks of wondeirng if soemone else was going to dump pudding all over him again and then laugh. 390 days of making sure he brought his own lunches so he wouldn't have to leave the DOM. It was time to force himself to move past this particular bad memory. He was somewhat adjusting to his glasses, and while his support cane was still tucked into a jacket pocket like a safety blanket he wasn’t ready to get rid of, Adam had been managing to move around more independently than ever since the star explosion that blinded him. That didn’t mean he wasn’t walking into things or knocking things over, but the accidents happened with less frequency now.
He had managed to grab and pay for a cheese sandwhich and bottle of pumpkin juice wihtout any misshaps and felt that perhaps being up in the food court wasn’t going to be so bad. He’d only paniced a little as a few of his collegues moved around him, grabbing their own food. But the little voice in the back of his head reminded him that getting his food last time hadn’t been the problem. Finding a seat had.
He was trying to keep up his optimisim. While a part of him thought grabbing the food and heading back to his lab was the best option, the other said no. After all, the potion he’d been working on all night would be fine by itself for a while longer. He wasn’t needed back in the lab for another hour or so. Things were going well, he told himself. This was fine… there was nothing to be worried about, he tried to convince himself as he entered the seating area.
And stopped.
Not too far away sat Zita. He couldn’t see her face or make out anything that identified her to him, but he knew it was her. The glasses weren’t helping that much (yet). It was more like an electric current zapped him in an attempt to get his attention or a magnet pulling his compass towards an electrificed pole. Something about the woman had always drawn Adam to her. Only, he hadn’t talked to Zita months. Not since that weird night at the gala with James the peacock. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to her now. But today was all about conquering fears. Or at least that was what he told himself as had made his way up to the food court. Maybe it should be about overcoming his anger as well?
Had Adam been a skilled Legilimens, he would have wondered if Zita’s belief that nothing good with the Minsitry included him. Perhaps, it was for this very reason, he’d never ever been inclinded to learn that particular skill. Because if he had been able to read her mind, he would have turned around and walked away. It probably would have saved him a lot of trouble. But Adam couldn’t read her mind.
With a deep breath he took a step forward. And then another. ”Sita,” Adam said as he came to a stop across from her at the table.
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