Moe usually spent his time being a loner hipster in one way or another, from hanging out in coffee shops to going to the park to make chalk drawing on the sidewalk, he was rather pretentious but would never object to a "draw a kitty!!" request from a child, so at least he had that. But, today after causing a snow in the downtown area (because one of the downtown area school teachers had pissed him off by calling him a "emo punk", and he wanted to fucking bury that guys car in snow, so he did) he just wanted to go home, or, what he called his home as of the moment.
He traveled a lot, so cheep motels, trees, and friendly peoples tree-houses were his homes. 
Right now, he was walking down the street, not really paying attention, as cold air that he didn't even feel ruffled his hair and his old sneakers clapped against the pavement, one second he had looked up to let his glasses fall back in place, as they had slipped down his nose, and the next second someone had bumped into him. This would be no big deal but there was a brief feeling of hotness, a weight on him, the sound of sizzling and then a nervous/apologetic voice. 
[i]"Oh my god I am so so so so sorry I didn't see you then I ran into you and I spilled my coffee all over you and oh my god your sweatshirt jesus fuck I'll replace that but first why is your chest producing steam?"[/i]

Moe would have been sweating right now if he could sweat. 
"I uh-." He stuttered, when taken by surprise he wasn't the best at speech, he looked up at the hand that the black haired boy was offering him, the flight or fight part of his brain was leaning towards flight. 
"Fuck." 
He rolled onto his stomach and used his legs to push himself forward, then sprinted forward, bumping into someone else and tripping again, this time scratching his knee quite badly on the pavement, he stood up again calling out a "sorry!" to the person he had bumped into and turning a corner to hide in an ally.