A Night in a Year: 10. Examination

So, if this wouldn’t be his usual place, why then?

She rest her chin on her fist. Meeting someone, most likely. A friend? Male or female? Someone more intimate? It’s a night most

He doesn’t look at his watch. Or he hasn’t yet. He’s still casually looking about, a little… perplexed, but not wanting to show it. Even a little irritated.

Well, if he’s been stood up…

Her eyes traverse his body. The suit drapes from him, designer for him. He is not living in dire straits, maybe could afford to buy a round of drinks for everyone present right now. She checks his shoes. Black and chisel-toed. Sharp like the rest of him.

He is not, she thinks, so sharp you could slice your fingers on him. Simply that the lines of him are so defined that there can be no room for fuzziness, for additions to his appearance. What depths there are to him lie in the pockets his coat and jacket, in the bemused scanning he is giving the room. He doesn’t look dangerous, but likely up for some slightly wicked fun.

Slightly wicked will suit her just fine.

Then, swiftly, his eyes catch hers. Like a hook for a fishing line, lashed out across the room. She blinks, and is stunned into stillness.

He knows she’s been watching.

She smooths her hair back, and holds her drink up, winking at him over the rim. And he cocks his head, forming a sardonic, lips-only grin.

She waits for him to break the gaze first. He doesn’t look away, and soon she finds herself in contest with his eyes, who will break first.

That bores her though. She kicks the stool opposite her, so it juts out from the table. Opens the space up to him, to accept or decline.

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Next: 11. Approach

Image found on flickr, by gusilu, used under the Creative Commons License.

Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.