[Gentleman Bastard Sequence]: Locke Lamora in Love
Jean was surprised, to say the least, when he came upon Locke sitting on the roof of the temple grinning with a rapidly blackening eye.
“Locke?” He said, carefully, clambering up awkwardly.
“Motherfucking ow,” Locke said, cheerfully, and laughed again.
“What happened to you?”
“Sabetha punched me.”
Jean stopped. Stared. And hesitated. “…what?”
“She punched me. We were talking and I tried to kiss her and she punched me.”
Jean frowned. “Where did she go? Why did she do that? What were you thinking?”
Locke leaned his head back. “She jumped off the building. And I think it was my fault, actually.” That got Jean’s attention. Locke Lamora admitting culpability for something? Shocking.
“You actually tried to kiss Sabetha,” Jean said, incredulously.
“Well, it made sense at the time,” Locke said defensively. “We were talking about… something, I don’t remember, and she was talking about girls, and I was talking about all the girls I’ve kissed-“
“You haven’t kissed any girls,” Jean said, dubiously. Locke shrugged.
“So? Anyway - and she said that she didn’t think I’d kissed anyone, not with a face like mine, and I said that she probably only said that because she was jealous since she wasn’t going to get any kisses with a face like hers, and she said that if I was going to be that way I was going to get a swift kick in the balls, and I said if she said anything about my face again I’d kiss her, and she said if I tried she’d black my eye.”
Jean winced. “So you tried.”
Locke nodded, and grinned. “How could I not? It was practically a challenge.”
“So she blacked your eye.”
“As you can say. And fuck, did it hurt. She has a good arm.” He laughed.
“You seem awfully cheerful about this,” Jean said, dubiously.
Locke turned and grinned at him. “Jean,” he said, amiably, “I tried to kiss her and she punched me in the face.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following,” Jean said, dryly.
“I think I’m in love,” Locke said, and laughed, and hopped nimbly off the building, vanishing into the streets below and leaving Jean staring after him.
“Locke?” He said, carefully, clambering up awkwardly.
“Motherfucking ow,” Locke said, cheerfully, and laughed again.
“What happened to you?”
“Sabetha punched me.”
Jean stopped. Stared. And hesitated. “…what?”
“She punched me. We were talking and I tried to kiss her and she punched me.”
Jean frowned. “Where did she go? Why did she do that? What were you thinking?”
Locke leaned his head back. “She jumped off the building. And I think it was my fault, actually.” That got Jean’s attention. Locke Lamora admitting culpability for something? Shocking.
“You actually tried to kiss Sabetha,” Jean said, incredulously.
“Well, it made sense at the time,” Locke said defensively. “We were talking about… something, I don’t remember, and she was talking about girls, and I was talking about all the girls I’ve kissed-“
“You haven’t kissed any girls,” Jean said, dubiously. Locke shrugged.
“So? Anyway - and she said that she didn’t think I’d kissed anyone, not with a face like mine, and I said that she probably only said that because she was jealous since she wasn’t going to get any kisses with a face like hers, and she said that if I was going to be that way I was going to get a swift kick in the balls, and I said if she said anything about my face again I’d kiss her, and she said if I tried she’d black my eye.”
Jean winced. “So you tried.”
Locke nodded, and grinned. “How could I not? It was practically a challenge.”
“So she blacked your eye.”
“As you can say. And fuck, did it hurt. She has a good arm.” He laughed.
“You seem awfully cheerful about this,” Jean said, dubiously.
Locke turned and grinned at him. “Jean,” he said, amiably, “I tried to kiss her and she punched me in the face.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following,” Jean said, dryly.
“I think I’m in love,” Locke said, and laughed, and hopped nimbly off the building, vanishing into the streets below and leaving Jean staring after him.