"Waiting for a woman like you to come along and alleviate the boredom, of course." He gives her an appraising sort of look. "How lovely you look, my dear. Where have you been?"
Bill nods, so very glad for her. "Tell me, Shady. About that lovely smirk gracing your face." He traces the edge of her lip with his fingertip. "Tell me about your friends and your travels, and about what brings you back here so that when the bar finally lets me leave, I can rival those exploits of yours and come back to tell you about them."
Her skin is soft, but he doesn't disturb the sunglasses. They are, after all, shouting image very clearly.
"I've met a few fine dark-skinned men and women and where they're from there's a constant festival. It's any elf's dream, especially this one's," she says, grinning.
"And I'm here to tell you that even old souls like this one can have their horizons broadened."
He's all for broadening horizons. "A constant festival; that sounds like rather a delightful change of pace. Perfect for you, dear."
Tapping the bar, he orders a pair of ales. "No Dragon's Blood for me tonight; I should tell you I introduced my twin brothers to it and they got a bit... pissed on it. I was thankful for the remedy you shared with me that first night, Shady. That was a blessing." He hands her one of the glasses. "It's good to see you, my friend."
"The twins? They're seventeen. I knew what I was doing and I did warn them, but did they listen?"
Bill laughs. "To tell you the honest truth, Shady, I'm tired of being the one they turn to for every small thing that happens to them. It's Bill, help me with this or Bill, fix this for them all and there's a very good reason I took a job over 3200 kilometers away from my family. I like being independent and yes, they're my family and yes, I love them, but I'm not their Dad and I'm not their caretaker: I'm their brother."
He shrugs. "And not a bit of that is yours to have to deal with. Not a bit."
"Ah, I remember how that was. Our clan was so small you couldn't piss in the woods without five elders knowing about it," she chuckles. "I couldn't take the confinement and it seems neither can you."
Part of him wants so very much to take her hand in his and hold her. It would be an honest reaction... but a futile one; he doesn't want her to have to be comforting him, after all.
But he does like the feel of her hand stroking his hair. It's nice, and Bill nods quietly. "I know. I know it will happen. I like the luxury of being able to make the choice, that's all."
For a moment and only a moment, he drops the bravado, the I-don't-care attitude, the mantle of responsibility, and when he looks into her eyes he knows his own betray the sadness he tries so hard to keep tucked away.
"Stop." It's a whisper, nothing more. "It makes me want to cry."
"So cry," is what she says back. Simple. Light. Understanding.
Shady's not one for bravado with those she cares about, and neither is she one for excessive sentiment. It's the little things, for her, but she hardly thinks less of anyone for displays of emotion.
Bill reaches for her hand; he kisses her palm, then folds her fingers in on the kiss. "Tonight, my dear, is not for tears. It's the tenderness, you see? I've grown unaccustomed to it. I think you're one of the few people I see here who never fails to lighten my day."
He nods to her, then sips his ale. "I have wants and needs. I've always been a self-sufficient person, but there are things I need, just as you have your own needs. I like it when our needs coincide."
Really, that's what it is. He's not ready to be an open book: not for Shady, not for anybody. Not yet.
She's filling out a pair of low-cut leather trousers quite nicely this evening and has even got a nice little tunic to match.
And, of course, her very own pair of shades.
"What's a man like you doing alone in a place like this, hmmm?" she says, slipping onto a stool next to him.
Reply
He's just curious.
Reply
"Oh, here, there, everywhere. I've been making friends, let's say."
She looks particularly satisfied with herself this evening.
Reply
Her skin is soft, but he doesn't disturb the sunglasses. They are, after all, shouting image very clearly.
Reply
"And I'm here to tell you that even old souls like this one can have their horizons broadened."
Reply
Tapping the bar, he orders a pair of ales. "No Dragon's Blood for me tonight;
I should tell you I introduced my twin brothers to it and they got a bit... pissed on it. I was thankful for the remedy you shared with me that first night, Shady. That was a blessing." He hands her one of the glasses. "It's good to see you, my friend."
Reply
"How old're your brothers, dare I ask? That stuff's not for beginners."
Reply
Bill laughs. "To tell you the honest truth, Shady, I'm tired of being the one they turn to for every small thing that happens to them. It's Bill, help me with this or Bill, fix this for them all and there's a very good reason I took a job over 3200 kilometers away from my family. I like being independent and yes, they're my family and yes, I love them, but I'm not their Dad and I'm not their caretaker: I'm their brother."
He shrugs. "And not a bit of that is yours to have to deal with. Not a bit."
Reply
Reply
Take away the one thing most valuable to me: my freedom. I must be the punchline to some cruel joke.
Reply
"It'll come and go, friend. You just have to seize the opportunity when it presents itself again."
Reply
But he does like the feel of her hand stroking his hair. It's nice, and Bill nods quietly. "I know. I know it will happen. I like the luxury of being able to make the choice, that's all."
Reply
She lays a brief kiss on the top of his head and turns to her ale - the hand stays, however, and continues the motions.
Reply
He knows it.
For a moment and only a moment, he drops the bravado, the I-don't-care attitude, the mantle of responsibility, and when he looks into her eyes he knows his own betray the sadness he tries so hard to keep tucked away.
"Stop." It's a whisper, nothing more. "It makes me want to cry."
Reply
Shady's not one for bravado with those she cares about, and neither is she one for excessive sentiment. It's the little things, for her, but she hardly thinks less of anyone for displays of emotion.
Reply
He nods to her, then sips his ale. "I have wants and needs. I've always been a self-sufficient person, but there are things I need, just as you have your own needs. I like it when our needs coincide."
Really, that's what it is. He's not ready to be an open book: not for Shady, not for anybody. Not yet.
Reply
Leave a comment