Oliver Burton

All Oliver could do was watch like a quiet guard with his studious nutmeg-hued eyes never leaving the woman who had effortlessly gone through the motions with her fans with an ease that said she had done this before. Perhaps, many times before, if his observations of this unexpected interaction were accurate. There was a lot he could read from the unfolding scene and yet revealed so much he could not deduce. All the were-bear could do was gather what he could and fill in those missing pieces until she could answer them for him. From the way she autographed her signature, to the way she handled the fans with ease and care, there was something to garner. Most importantly, the woman before him hardly skipped a beat. It was like looking at a whole other being. As if she had suddenly transformed right before his very eyes! He waited for the group of teens to leave in their starstruck haze before he spoke.

All the Englishman was left with was the single unsurprising question of who she was. How it held so much more than just the obvious within those simple words, spoken with a slight underlying awe. What he did not expect was for her to revert back into her shell, to avert her gaze from his as if she sought to recoil entirely. Like a flower once cut, withering away as it dried. Gone was the woman he had seen mere moments before, shrugging his question away, as if to dismiss him. It was clear she had no intention to answer, not truly. She looked away and yet he swore he almost glimpsed a sad expression. She shrugged once more claiming she was no one. Not anymore. What did that even mean?

Oliver's frown only deepened at those very words as he let them hang in the air between them. "I can see that is not true." Yet to her, it was clear she believed them with a certainty. Yet had she not seen the way those girls' faces lit up when they saw her? When she gave them even a fraction of her attention? The sternness in his voice eased into something softer as he considered it. It was clear she didn't wish to share those deeply nestled secrets, so he offered her the reprieve she appeared to want. A rarity from the man who usually relented to anyone within his line of business. " Although, I hope you are not no one because I have spent the last hour or so...with someone I am very certain is someone. Unless you are suggesting I have lost my mind." He searched her pretty downcast face, wondering if she would look up enough for him to see it.

Oliver was almost surprised to hear the suggestion to wander the shopping centre while they waited for "his" food. Didn't she know that he ordered that for her the moment he saw her face light up when she spoke of it? Was it a mistake?

His brows pinched together as his hand rose to rub the back of his neck. The man who usually did not take no for an answer seemed almost at a loss and yet still agreed. "I wouldn't mind stretching my legs. Although, I will confess that I am not... exactly good at this. I do not remember the last time I had to shop for myself." Perhaps that could be said about more than one thing that was transpiring here. He exhaled a breath. This was normal.. for people to shop. Not him. He hardly felt the need or desire when there was someone perfectly capable who could bring various outfits to him that he could choose from. It was far easier that way, better than being lost in a sea of choices when he possessed such limited time. "My sister.. she loves this sort of thing, though." He admitted as he picked up his container with the shepherd's pie with no further preamble, leaving it safely with the driver. The pair then began to walk side by side, Oliver pretending to look interested in those shops despite being entirely out of his element. What was the purpose of shopping without actually intending to buy? What was the point? Wouldn't it be more accurately called window perusing? Instead, he let his gaze wander to study the architecture of some of the more interesting builds, like the simple arched walkway before his phone began to buzz. He slipped the phone out, curious that he would be calling at this hour. It was clearly not the food and he had no desire to deal with anything beyond the woman at his side so he ignored it, slipping it back into the pocket of his jacket. Whatever it was, could wait until tomorrow, he was certain.

Instead, the businessman leaned into her, close enough for his woodsy scent to invade her space. "Did you see anything you fancy, Chizue?" The British businessman inquired. He had seen at least twenty mannequins and they all seemed to wear the same thing but in various settings but he was at least interested to see if anything spoke to the lady at his side.