Fox's Glade in split infinity

Looking down, chewing at his lip, Taylor notices that clear expression of embarassment. He dimly hopes that it isn't all his fault. 
Evien Kastner. He records the name in his head, pulls open a drawer full of files. In you go, Evien-or-Evie Kastner. Though addled by sleep as he was, he expects it to go missing by tomorrow. He'd remember the green eyes though. 
Taylor loved watching. And listening. And acting like he didn't take up any space, which was usually a fruitless endeavour. I'm Taylor Fields, he recites. But everyone calls me Fields. It really was turning into muscle memory. That made it all the more easier for him. The thing about having a brother that was on the hunt for you was that you got good at faking IDs and never having a home and sleeping in other peoples' cars.
I live with some friends just south, he gestures with his chin, knowing that this wasn't a lie, for once. He dimly hopes that he can keep it together. I'd rather put my foot through a beehive than live here. There we go, there's some humor! There's the Wolfram charisma! Taylor flattens his ears again, though he knows that there's no point in trying to mute that dialogue.