"This has been said... so many times... that I'm not sure if it matters."

Alister was mouthing (and accidentally singing very softly) the words to a familiar tune stuck in his head. The redhead's hair was pulled into a ponytail which hung at the base of his neck, his bangs falling on either side of his face, framing it. Select strands fell into his bluish gray-green eyes, and all attempts at pushing them away had been practically useless. Today his eyes were sad and exhausted looking.

There weren't a lot of people here at the Bean today, and those that were here were seated. Alis had just finished serving the last customer and was now leaning on the counter, looking tired. He was in his general uniform, his nametag reading 'ALISTER' in big capital letters.

"Your secret's out... 'n the best part is... it's not even a good one."

He was sort of slumped over, one elbow on the counter as he was leaning into it. His scars and tattoos on his hands and wrists were clearly visible, his right hand lying flat on the counter, the word 'KILLS' displayed on his fingers. The names that wrapped around his wrists like vines were also visible, and if you looked at the right angle you could see the tattoo of the word 'CHRIST' across the fingers of his left hand.

He could hear his fellow workers cracking jokes and chatting on the other side of the counter. Alister thought one of the guys' name was Matt, but he could never remember. He always seemed so distant, not wanting to be involved in ay sort of conversation. He also felt sort of intimidated by them. Almost everyone who walked in here was taller than him; even the girls he worked with were taller.

He straightened when he watched the door open, sighing.

Samantha is addicted to coffee. Black coffee, coffee with sugar, sugar with sugar.

She doesn't drink milk. Lactose intolerant.

She loves the smell of coffee, and the harshness of it. Coffee is like life - painful and rough and uplifting and worth it.

Even at these prices. Ouch.

So she sits here, bundled against the winter outside, eyes hidden behind shaded glasses, sipping coffee and people-watching. Her coat is black, and she has a grey scarf. Knitted it herself, some winters past.

Her hair is black, long, straight. She dyes it, straightens it.

It's naturally redgold, you know. Redgold and curly. Beautiful, but she really doesn't appreciate it.

It isn't a very human shade, so rare it is - and she'd rather look drab than unnatural.

More people seemed to come and go. It was either feast or famine sometimes. Once they were gone, thouhg, it was quiet again. Alister looked back to Matt (or whatever his name really was) and the others. Still chatting. Odd people.

Alister took a coffee of his own and took his break. He'd been watching the girl bundled up in the corner he'd served earlier.

He stepped out from behind the counter and walked towards the table Samantha was sitting at, coffee in hand.

"Hey."

Uh. Nice one?

(Blah reply. Sorries.)

(Didn't really give you much to go on, no worries.)

"Hey." Cautious, blank. There's friendly in there somewhere, but it's well hidden.

Pause.

"Nasty weather."

Which is true. She can't really think of much else to say, y'know? Why was he talking to her anyway?

Not like she was anything interesting or... well, worth knowing.

Yep. Tad of a self esteem problem.

"Yeah. It's... nasty. D'you mind if I sit with you?" Because she seemed like the most promising company at the moment.

Oh, and, if she noticed, he had an accent. An uncommon accent you hear in movies. It sounded sort of funny and guttural.

Please, just say yes?

You know you want to.

Pause.

"Not at all."

She's fine with it, just a bit - why?

Suspicious. Can't help it. Is he doing this on a bet or something?

Though given his appearance, her (supposed) looks don't seem that odd, actually.

Not that his looks are strange, just - there's something a tad odd compared to your typical small-town jock type. Which are the types she's used to talking to (being talked at, actually).

Interesting, but odd.

"Don't worry," he tried to assure her, "I dont bite. Just thought you looked like you could use some company," and that's all.

"Oh."

Pause.

"Yeah." She grins a bit. "I guess that works."

Pause.

"I'm Sam."

Samantha. You know how it is.

He set his coffee down on the table and slid into a chair on the other side of her table.

He grinned, too. See, look, he's not intimidating!

"Sam, hm? Nice to meet you. I'm Alis." His nametag read 'Alister', though, so it was probably obvious. He offered his hand to her.