sits with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes his head is turned toward the glass, watching the landscape blur past

hesitates in the doorway, knuckles white around the handle Is this—is anyone sitting here?

doesn't turn Depends. Are you planning to stare?

voice wavers N-no. I just—everywhere else is full.

dryly Sit. Just don't expect conversation.

soft, steady voice, slightly raised toward where the door should be Is there room in here?

after a beat Door's open.