Sighing, mostly from feeling worn out before he'd even made it into the biscuit ti-- cough car cough-- and partly in relief, Nino rubbed his arm gingerly where Cain had shoved him. He trailed after the mahogany haired punk like a lost soul before jerking to a halt before an outstretched hand.<br/><br/>"Smoke,"<br/><br/>It wasn't so much a request as an order.<br/><br/>A dark brow arched, a tiny grin tipping the corner of his lips. He found himself wondering what could make a person so bloody cheeky and demanding off the hat like that as he dug around his jean pockets for the packet. It came back clutching something faded red and dog eared in the corner, "You'll have to wait for me to roll, your highness," he shook his head in disbelief, wearing a fond old smile. He waved the tobacco packet at Cain as if he needed any more solid evidence.<br/><br/>In all fairness the boy looked fit to start knocking teeth out like an old school arcade punching game. He couldn't have been more high strung if he tried, not that Nino was in any place to comment. Poor thing. Was at a new school, was alone and frankly most kids with that kind of 'tude tended to have -- as the quacks put it--<span style="font-style: italic">home problems</span>. If anyone knew about those it was Nino. Christ, he even had the scars to prove it. Almost on cue he could feel the old welt on his shoulder itching up a storm under his jacket.<br/><br/>Talk about your Harry Potter flashbacks! He shook his head, scowling slightly (disappointment? He wasn't sure...) as Cain waltzed off, checking the car and murmuring to himself miserably.<br/><br/>What was it about this kid... something... something had seemed off. Different. Not right just then... Not that Nino could put his finger on it...<br/><br/>"Here," he held out a cigarette to him in one loose hand, the other scratching his shoulder absently, "You got a lighter?" he asked, tone of voice not really committing to the question, it had the rushed tones of someone who's mind is too busy elsewhere. Could it be the kids hands? They weren't exactly masculine? Maybe the way he held himself? The way he spoke?<br/><br/>It was slowly driving Nino crazy. What was it about this kid!?<br/><br/>"Here!" Nino barked into the car, leaning over Cain. Was it the smell of the kid? It was... oddly sweet... or at least for a teenage lad, "Leafy, move up! Let Cain have some room! You're bag doesn't need a whole bloody seat to itself now, does it! Y'ain't got the fack'n crown jewels in there!"<br/><br/>"At least not that I know of," Leafy had a surprisingly willow voice for someone so large. He wasn't fat in the traditional way, there was nothing flabby or wobbly about him, he was just, for no other way of describing it solid. Solid and fair haired. He had a mop of curls like someone had sheared a lambs back and left it on his crown.<br/><br/>Katie watched from her perch on the front passengers seat, expression like a guilty child, "Sorry sweetheart," she said, pulling her face sheepishly at Cain, "I forget people aren't used to me... sort of... well shit, there isn't a recluse at home who don't know me, like!"<br/><br/>"Like they can't all hear you from a mile away," Leafy sighed, shifting his weight, "If you want the window seat," he added softly, "just push Nino in first. I'm sure he wont mind,"