If you could scream anything into a crowd knowing no one would hear you, what would you scream?

'Leah?'

'Hmm?'

'Leah!'

'What? Oh crap, sorry, faded out again didn't I?' Yawning, Leah let her hand pushing the hair out of her face fall onto the table onto something damp. Ugh I drooled again. Man. Trying and failling as always at the art of insconscpicuousness, she dabbed awkwardly at the tiny yet alarming blob of drool on her desk. 

'Yeah you did it again! I don't know if you've ever taken into account anything I say ...' There it was, there it always is, actually. The wit and wisdom of Rowan Garcery never ceased, particularly when Leah was involved. 

Leah glanced up at him. 'Look, Ro, I know you're still on a power trip from when that girl at nerd-con thought you were someone from Game of Thrones because your name sounds-' she paused, thinking. '... knightly, but that doesn't mean you can get angry at  me, for falling asleep when you're dithering about whether your socks are going to impact on the overall gravitas of your outfit!' Getting up from her seat at his desk, Leah surveyed his room, flustered.

Rowan rocked back and forth on his heels. 'Something we need to talk about?' he asked with one eyebrow raised. Leah made a mental note to practise that later, he always made it look effortless.

Leah shrugged, looking up at him. Ro always had a kind of threatening demeanor about him - a solid build (though he never bought into the gym junkie culture, probably a good call as he's hard enough to keep from endlessly obsessing with things.), he could tower over you with his height, but to picture him fighting someone would be like picturing a puppy in a ball pit - super cute and - no wait it would probaby do the opposite because who would want to fight when you could watch a puppy in a ball pit?! 

Anyway, Ro had a genuiness about him that was rare and inviting. Not much dress sense, considering he's spent he last ten minutes talking about socks, but some sock enthusiasts out there may find him staggeringly knowledegable in the art of sock composition.

'Well, whatever it is, you know I am always - and the only - one willing to dive into whatever madness it is that has consumed you this time' he said while tugging his socks up at a worrisome height, 

Leah scanned Rowan up and down, chewing on how much she wanted to divulge about what was upsetting her. 

'It's nothing man, a temporary setback which I am more than capable of handling.' She told him. 

Rowan raised his eyebrow again. 

'Okay well, so long as capable of handling whatever it is that is upsetting you, can you please help me pick a pair of socks to wear?!' 

'Where are you wearing them to anyway?' Leah took a closer look at the several pairs of frighteningly bright socks on his bed.

'Dinner with Felicity at that new downtown bistro, I want to make an impression'. He held up a pair of navy blue socks embellished with little yellow cresent moons.

'Yes or yes?' he said pulling up his pant legs to show them off in all of their glory.

'Yes, if you want her to say no to dinner.' Leah joked, pulling her bag onto her shoulder.

'If she doesn't love them as much as I do, then shes not the one.' She lightly hit Rowan on the shoulder.

He wheeled on her as Leah headed for the door.

'But you don't love my socks!' he looked scandalized.

'Yes but I already know that I'm not the one, thank the heavens,'

On that note, Leah left Rowan's room and up the stairs, leaving him wondering if maybe the sky blue socks with birds on them were the way to go.