Koinonia (koinonia) wrote,

She took her time. Something inside her was speaking, telling her that it was important that she move slow. Real slow, like she was walking up to a wild thing. Because that's kind of what he was like, a wild animal, with his black, shiny leather skin, and his triangle of smooth bare chest showing, and his could-be-anybody reflective visor down, showing her a vision of herself as she made her way toward him.

She sipped the coke while she walked, nursing it a little, letting herself have little sips of coolness for every step that she took where he didn't run away. And he didn't run away, that visor showing her a curvy, funhouse picture of the store behind her, and the windows, giving back shine on shine. She blinked at her reflection, and gave him a smile, but when she saw that too, she gave it up as being too goofy.

"Hi." She stirred what was left of her coke by swirling the remainder around and around in the bottom, though she never did know a coke that didn't come already mixed in the bottle. "What's your name?"

There was no answer. Instead, he turned his attention to the store as if he was bored with her already and waiting for his bretheren inside. She licked her lips, tasting what was left of her strawberry lip gloss, thick and artificially sweet on her tongue. She was going to lose him, and now that she'd gotten close enough to take a look she kind of liked what she saw.

That triangle of chest wasn't fishbelly white, it was a smooth, even brown like caramel candies, all melted and poured out on a tray. The little bit of neck she could see now and then when he lifted his head was nice too, not too big and bull like, but nice. A little strong, but it looked like he shaved good. There were a couple of places where the dark hairs were going to come through, and a glint of gold like a necklace at the base of his neck, but she couldn't see any pendant, just a chain.

She held out her bottle. "You want some?"

The helmeted head lifted, and moved, and she held her breath, sure that if she twitched, it was going to be a no. It didn't, though. Instead, the gloved hands came up and stuck his thumbs under the helmet and lifted it away.

There was a *lot* of blue black hair, long hair, the kind that looks like it ought to be a cloak, ought to come down over bare skin. She could see his chin first, strong and clean, with that little dimple in it like Kirk Douglas, her mama's favorite movie star. He had high cheekbones, and wide dark eyes fringed with lashes so thick it would have made Chrissie Cheswick the Homecoming Princess cry tears to see them. He was purely beautiful, like a statue, or a piece of art, and she didn't want to move, or speak or do anything to break the moment apart.

He seemed to understand, though, because he just took the bottle from her hand, really slowly and gently, and he took a good long swallow. She watched the coke go down in the bottle, foamy and washy as it went glug-glug down his throat, but she didn't care if he drank all her coke. She just wanted to watch him, watch his throat moving, and his lips pursed up like a kiss.
He handed her the bottle again, and she sighed. The moment was over and that was that. She put her lips over the bottle, as if she was kissing it, tasting his taste on the thick, wavery glass of the bottle lip. There wasn't much left but a swallow, though she didn't mind. It mixed with his taste, clean and a little bit like cinnamon gum, she thought. Good, and sweet and a little fiery.

But there was nothing left to do now, nothing left but to go back to her mama and her daddy. She could have asked for another coke, if she'd stayed in the store, but she'd come outside. That meant that Micheline would have pocketed the change, and if she went inside she'd flat out deny that there was any change left from that five. She sighed and turned away, reluctantly. Feeling his eyes on her, on the skin of her arms like a tickly caress.

"Wait." His voice was deep and resonant, like he'd been born to sing, and it made her close her eyes and determine never ever ever to listen to someone else instead of him.
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