[ the spiderweb is picked off of darling's elbow, and he has half a mind to snatch his arm away. ( he doesn't — he actually finds the touch to be grounding, safe. ) his skin is ripe with gooseflesh, as if he can't work the cold out of his body. while the shop was warm, so warm in fact, that darling feels damp — but his skin is clammy and pale. he side-glances the stranger, and when he's asked to sit — he doesn't argue. he merely does. the bench is welcome, as darling feels wobbly on his legs as if he's run a great distance, and has he? he can't remember. ]

It isn't my intention to make you nervous. I've just —

[ what, casper? been in a bookstore that inhabits something you've never seen before? something paranatural in its own right? darling frowns, taking in a deep, steadying breath. he's seen supernatural, he's seen paranatural, but he hasn't felt personally involved. his generally cold demeanor toward discovery and what merits experimentation of said discoveries — he feels as if this is punishment somehow. maybe he should have done this, maybe he should have done that. darling licks his lips, tongue against the dry. after another moment, he meets the stranger's eyes. ]

This place, the entire town — I've never seen anything like it. While normally I'd be very excited to dissect it and find some sort of meaning, I'm afraid there isn't one. That's the hardest part to accept, I think, on my part. Not that I expect anyone to understand that, let alone myself.