Urdu
Story: Angelus
Universe: 2222 Rebel Saga
Rating: PG-13 (language, sexual themes)
Word Count: 1026
Summary: Ryan runs into Kristian whilst running an errand at the library late at night.
Only the old-fashioned table lamps were lit this late - giving the building a warm, period feel. Ryan trod softly on the mismatched scraps of carpet - because this was a library, and it was the middle of the night.
The main desk, carved of dark wood, had a few lamps littered along the surface. Sachi Jerda had drawn the short straw and ran the late shift again tonight. She sat behind the desk, flicking through a book on her lap, but looking efficient as always. The computer terminal was, for once, blissfully silent - its printouts all neatly rolled up for the day.
“They got you up all hours,” Ryan said, leaning his elbow on the desk.
Sachi's mismatched eyes were bleary and drooping when she looked up. “No rest for the wicked.” She winked her blue eyeball, and the remaining red eye gave her an eerie look. “What's got you up and about?”
“Running an errand.”
“Now?” Sachi checked the blinking digits on the terminal.
Ryan shrugged. “I'm not tired. I napped most of the day.” With constant preparations and worries, Ryan's sleeping pattern was hopelessly irregular, and unlikely to fix itself any time soon. “I enjoy the walk. Night air, you know?”
Sachi raised a thin eyebrow. “Night air? More like Danger Zone.”
“Sun! You know how to keep morale up, Saarda.”
The girl spread her hands. “I deal in paper, not people. Speaking of paper, what do you need here?”
Ryan flushed. “Languages.”
Sachi's mouth twitched. She was probably trying not to smirk. “Rello?” She was clearly making an effort to keep the remark innocent.
“Funnily enough,” Ryan replied, a little sourly, daring her to giggle.
Sachi pressed her lips together, and put a hand to her face. “Downstairs, two floors,” she said. “Isha keeps all the foreign language studies down there.”
Ryan tapped the counter. “Thanks.”
“It's OK - I think Kris is down there too.”
Ryan felt his chest tighten. “Is he?” Was his voice a little higher?
Sachi didn't seem to have noticed anything. “You should go say hi. He's alert as ever, just like you. But I don't think he sleeps much anymore.”
Ryan nodded, exhaling deeply. “I hope it's not the drugs again.”
Sachi had lifted her book back up, and turned a page. “If it is, he's hidden them well. I destroyed the last lot, and cleared his whole room out.”
“You're a woman with the heart of a lion, you know that?”
A faint smile touched her lips as she scanned the page. “So they say.”
- - -
Ryan spotted Kristian easily on the second basement floor. He was in an armchair, one leg crossed over his knee, and glasses jammed onto his short nose. Ryan always thought they made Kristian look different. Younger maybe. They suited his face well, as though his features had always cried out for spectacles, and now they were finally complete.
Kristian's gaze flickered upwards momentarily when Ryan descended the stairs near him. He always did that, Ryan noticed, it was a funny habit. He pretended not to see someone approach him until they were up close. Perhaps it was to put non-psychics at ease.
Kristian looked up again when Ryan reached the foot of the stairs, and waved the heavy, leather-bound book in his hand. “You know Isha has a copy of Verne?”
Ryan had passing knowledge of Jules Verne, but the significance flew over his head. “They rare?”
Kristian shrugged. “Can't find a hard-copy off-planet. And nothing so fancy. I'd struggle to get a nicer version on Earth.”
Ryan nodded, pretending to scan the shelves. He couldn't quite think of what he was looking for anymore. “Why are you reading fiction on this level?”
“It's warmer. The best chairs are down here. I'm not surprised in was Isha's favourite room.”
Ryan tried not to wince at the use of the past tense. “It is warm,” he agreed, for lack of suitable responses except 'you know, you have very long eyelashes'. Which probably wasn't that suitable, come to think of it.
Languages. Foreign Languages of Earth. Fucking focus, here.
He couldn't help but notice that Kristian hadn't gone back to his book. The blond spooker was looking at him. Ryan thought back half an hour earlier - lying in the warm bed with Rello wrapped around his body. They said you could smell sex on a person; they gave off a signal and a smell, and you would just know. He flushed under Kristian's gaze. The man was part psychic, after all.
He must accidentally run into thoughts like that every day - people recalling their private lives innocuously whilst performing average tasks around the city. Memories and impressions floated everywhere. Nobody really cared who were sleeping with.
Ryan's cheek still felt warm. No one needed to be psychic - Kristian could probably tell a hundred things on his face tha screamed 'I just had sex'. Maybe that was why Sachi kept smirking.
But having Kristian know was different. It was embarrassing.
Foreign fucking Languages. Get a grip.
“The boyfriend send you?”
'The boyfriend.' He knew. Sun, he knew. Ryan smiled sheepishly. “Urdu.” He started picking volumes off the shelves.
Kristian's eyebrow had shot up. “He wants to revise Urdu at a time like this?”
Ryan knew he didn't mean the time of day. “Well, you know. Nothing much shakes Rello.” Lie. Rotten, filthy lie. The man might as well be made of glass. He'd be lying under the snuggly covers now, stretching his limbs in that inviting way, with curls of dark hair tumbling across the pillow. Ryan smiled to himself. “Must get back. He's keeping the bed warm.” Yes, I did just have sex. Bugger your glasses and your long eyelashes.
Kristian looked surprised for only a moment. “I wouldn't deny you a warm bed. Sleep well.” And he turned back to Jules Verne as Ryan ascended the staircase, books tucked under his arm.
(Story Index) | (Character Guide)
Universe: 2222 Rebel Saga
Rating: PG-13 (language, sexual themes)
Word Count: 1026
Summary: Ryan runs into Kristian whilst running an errand at the library late at night.
Only the old-fashioned table lamps were lit this late - giving the building a warm, period feel. Ryan trod softly on the mismatched scraps of carpet - because this was a library, and it was the middle of the night.
The main desk, carved of dark wood, had a few lamps littered along the surface. Sachi Jerda had drawn the short straw and ran the late shift again tonight. She sat behind the desk, flicking through a book on her lap, but looking efficient as always. The computer terminal was, for once, blissfully silent - its printouts all neatly rolled up for the day.
“They got you up all hours,” Ryan said, leaning his elbow on the desk.
Sachi's mismatched eyes were bleary and drooping when she looked up. “No rest for the wicked.” She winked her blue eyeball, and the remaining red eye gave her an eerie look. “What's got you up and about?”
“Running an errand.”
“Now?” Sachi checked the blinking digits on the terminal.
Ryan shrugged. “I'm not tired. I napped most of the day.” With constant preparations and worries, Ryan's sleeping pattern was hopelessly irregular, and unlikely to fix itself any time soon. “I enjoy the walk. Night air, you know?”
Sachi raised a thin eyebrow. “Night air? More like Danger Zone.”
“Sun! You know how to keep morale up, Saarda.”
The girl spread her hands. “I deal in paper, not people. Speaking of paper, what do you need here?”
Ryan flushed. “Languages.”
Sachi's mouth twitched. She was probably trying not to smirk. “Rello?” She was clearly making an effort to keep the remark innocent.
“Funnily enough,” Ryan replied, a little sourly, daring her to giggle.
Sachi pressed her lips together, and put a hand to her face. “Downstairs, two floors,” she said. “Isha keeps all the foreign language studies down there.”
Ryan tapped the counter. “Thanks.”
“It's OK - I think Kris is down there too.”
Ryan felt his chest tighten. “Is he?” Was his voice a little higher?
Sachi didn't seem to have noticed anything. “You should go say hi. He's alert as ever, just like you. But I don't think he sleeps much anymore.”
Ryan nodded, exhaling deeply. “I hope it's not the drugs again.”
Sachi had lifted her book back up, and turned a page. “If it is, he's hidden them well. I destroyed the last lot, and cleared his whole room out.”
“You're a woman with the heart of a lion, you know that?”
A faint smile touched her lips as she scanned the page. “So they say.”
- - -
Ryan spotted Kristian easily on the second basement floor. He was in an armchair, one leg crossed over his knee, and glasses jammed onto his short nose. Ryan always thought they made Kristian look different. Younger maybe. They suited his face well, as though his features had always cried out for spectacles, and now they were finally complete.
Kristian's gaze flickered upwards momentarily when Ryan descended the stairs near him. He always did that, Ryan noticed, it was a funny habit. He pretended not to see someone approach him until they were up close. Perhaps it was to put non-psychics at ease.
Kristian looked up again when Ryan reached the foot of the stairs, and waved the heavy, leather-bound book in his hand. “You know Isha has a copy of Verne?”
Ryan had passing knowledge of Jules Verne, but the significance flew over his head. “They rare?”
Kristian shrugged. “Can't find a hard-copy off-planet. And nothing so fancy. I'd struggle to get a nicer version on Earth.”
Ryan nodded, pretending to scan the shelves. He couldn't quite think of what he was looking for anymore. “Why are you reading fiction on this level?”
“It's warmer. The best chairs are down here. I'm not surprised in was Isha's favourite room.”
Ryan tried not to wince at the use of the past tense. “It is warm,” he agreed, for lack of suitable responses except 'you know, you have very long eyelashes'. Which probably wasn't that suitable, come to think of it.
Languages. Foreign Languages of Earth. Fucking focus, here.
He couldn't help but notice that Kristian hadn't gone back to his book. The blond spooker was looking at him. Ryan thought back half an hour earlier - lying in the warm bed with Rello wrapped around his body. They said you could smell sex on a person; they gave off a signal and a smell, and you would just know. He flushed under Kristian's gaze. The man was part psychic, after all.
He must accidentally run into thoughts like that every day - people recalling their private lives innocuously whilst performing average tasks around the city. Memories and impressions floated everywhere. Nobody really cared who were sleeping with.
Ryan's cheek still felt warm. No one needed to be psychic - Kristian could probably tell a hundred things on his face tha screamed 'I just had sex'. Maybe that was why Sachi kept smirking.
But having Kristian know was different. It was embarrassing.
Foreign fucking Languages. Get a grip.
“The boyfriend send you?”
'The boyfriend.' He knew. Sun, he knew. Ryan smiled sheepishly. “Urdu.” He started picking volumes off the shelves.
Kristian's eyebrow had shot up. “He wants to revise Urdu at a time like this?”
Ryan knew he didn't mean the time of day. “Well, you know. Nothing much shakes Rello.” Lie. Rotten, filthy lie. The man might as well be made of glass. He'd be lying under the snuggly covers now, stretching his limbs in that inviting way, with curls of dark hair tumbling across the pillow. Ryan smiled to himself. “Must get back. He's keeping the bed warm.” Yes, I did just have sex. Bugger your glasses and your long eyelashes.
Kristian looked surprised for only a moment. “I wouldn't deny you a warm bed. Sleep well.” And he turned back to Jules Verne as Ryan ascended the staircase, books tucked under his arm.
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