slytherinlore
thinking too deeply, rationalising the situation and the possibilities - cole froze slightly. he knew that his life had been a journey of twists and turns and horrifying events, a trainwreck of chaos that would never cease, merlin the fact that he had been sent back in time was enough evidence but he really, really hoped that her reaction had nothing to do with who he was thinking of, that the date of today was anything but what he was thinking of. he would pray against it with every ounce of his being. oh, how ironic it would be -
but a part of him -
- he doesn't want to entertain his thoughts right now, he just wants to find out how to go home. he just wants to go home. he'd been stalling this whole time, waiting waiting and waiting for the right moment to ask the dreaded question - the one question that would wrap up the conversation and possibly send him reeling from its hard truth, because he had a feeling - he just had a feeling that it would be true. he pushed it to the back of his mind to let himself breathe, just breathe - but he had to face it now, if he ever wanted to go home.
then, with his heart running, he straightens, and whilst looking a bit pale, he asks what's been floating in his head since he first got here - or well, landed here; "what year is it?". the woman, the owner of the bar and the roof he created a dent in, does the head tilt again, even in her shocked state, and she swallows. he notices her expression change and she looks at him a little softer, a little kinder, a little gentler than she did before. "1979, august 3rd."