Young Writers Society

She had been waiting for a while, still and quiet, watching people come and go. They seemed to overlook her which was fine. One yappy dog must not have liked her perfume, and the snooty owner sneered at her.

She considered kicking the dog, but it wasn't worth it.

Mostly she tilted her head up and allowed the sun to paint her eyelids red as her mind digested the message at the temple. The teacher had changed, and she was considering making her visits regular again. Her eyes barely fluttered open in time, and she ground out, "Don't look at me." She thought her voice sounded even, hoped it did.

Lekan, barely visible in her peripheral vision, stiffened for a moment before continuing his loose walk and waving. She didn't think he was waving to anyone in particular- surely he wouldn't be stupid enough to draw someone's attention this way- but a casual observer wouldn't know the difference, and Qui'in knew that the world was made up of casual observers. She was impressed.

Taking out some embroidery, she set to work, the needle flashing with the speed of talent and practice. She should have taken it out ages ago to be less noticeable, but she detested sewing, was only using it as a ruse. "Sit down," she said to her sampler, humming as she worked. "Not to close and not too far."

He sat and when their eyes met he nodded with the coolness of a stranger.

Very impressed.

"I will be leaving in five minutes. You will leave fifteen minutes after that. Look disappointed as if someone has failed to meet you."

She yelped and shook her hand, sucking her finger and mumbling sheepishly around it, "And, gods, don't follow me. I know you well enough to know you're not an idiot."

He blinked slowly, obviously trying not to look at her. "You don't know me at all."

"Relax, darling. I can tell you're hiding something. You'll call attention to us if you're not careful with a posture like that."

He slowly eased his shoulders into a customary slouch and leaned his head back, closing his eyes against the sun as the hot breeze ran fingers through her hair like she would be doing after this charade ended soon enough. He smiled at the thought.

"You're a bad kid," she murmured, her voice a knowing smoky rasp that had his eyes fluttering open, but she was already walking away.

Emphasis on kid. He grimaced as he wondered why she had even given him attention in the first place. She was so beautiful. He allowed himself a nonchalant glance at her swaying behind, just now realizing he hadn't asked her where he was to meet her. He stood up abruptly, not thinking about how it would draw attention until a round man sweating in his many layers raised an eyebrow. Lekan nodded at him and slowly made his way deeper into the park. Some miracle of plumbing had allowed squat leafy trees to take root where it had been barren before to create a relatively cool spot for idle debutantes.

He'd taken the style the newest generation of the entitled had embraced with a vigor, abandoning his vest, jacket, and tie for a loose cotton shirt that breathed when the wind blew his way. Of course, it was embroidered lavishly in a dark red thread, telling some folktale he had forgotten.

The older generations didn't pretend to understand, and he was sure the sweating pig behind him was judging him for his wardrobe choice, but at least he was cooler. He wondered if Qui'in in her veils thought that his shirt was inappropriate for public wear. She was technically a commoner- though no one would say so if they were asked- and this was a commoner's style. He looked back, wondering how long it had been. She didn't dress like a commoner though. He felt a sweat break out, dampening his skin, suddenly feeling very silly. He had dressed well for the jazz club. What kind of message was he sending, wearing nothing but a commoner's cotton shirt for her? She could have very well left him on purpose.

He wouldn't blame her… much.

When he was sure it had to have been fifteen minutes, he turned around, and taking a long convoluted way that made sure he wouldn't pass by the old noble again, he left the park, looking up and down the busy street. White marble and dark metal baked in the sun. The honk of a car echoed off the buildings across the street every few moments. He'd just taken in a hot lungful of air to sigh when he caught a glimpse of white in the mouth of one of the alleys. He knew better than to be sure it was her, but there was no harm in checking.

Keeping in mind her wish for subtleness, he jogged directly across the street and entered the shadow of the buildings. It was clean when he first entered the alley, but he was quickly introduced to the squalid underworld that resided behind the pretty faces of upscale homes. A catacomb of cramped streets hid behind and all kinds of illegal things hid within. He methodically made his way up, having an idea of where she would be waiting. He pretended not to recognize a dealer he went to when a party needed something a little extra to really be enjoyable and stayed aware of his pockets. He knew exactly what he looked like: a rich boy, an easy target.

He wouldn't admit to the relief he felt ease around his stomach as he reached the clean walls again. He was even able to smile when he saw her.

He'd hoped to sneak up on her, but she turned around and approval shone in her eyes which made him feel four years older than he was which, he supposed, wasn't truly what he should be hoping for, but normally he felt ten years younger, so it was a definite improvement. Maybe someday he would feel his own age around her. He realized she was talking to him and didn't know what to do with the loopy grin pasted on his face.

"…a little faster next time." She looped her arm through his with a small smile and said demurely, her eyes glittering through her lashes, "I won't repeat what I said just because you weren't listening. Think of it as a punishment." She waved her free hand playfully, her bag swinging at her elbow. "Or a lesson."

His mouth was open as he tried to think of something to say. Instead, he just nodded when she raised an eyebrow.

"Close your mouth, darling. You can't let a woman know you're behind her. Make her think you've got her number instead."

He grinned. "Can I have yours?" He glanced up as she led him back into the slums, obviously worried.

"Don't show fear either. That's not very appealing, do you think?" She laughed at his blush which would have been charming if he was allowed to just be a boy and didn't need to grow up fast. "We'll have to work on the blush too. That one's harder to hide."

He shook his head, stuck between adoration and irritation.

"How old are you, baby?" she asked softly, her husky voice stirring him out of what had been dangerously close to a childish sulk.

Looking at her, he frowned. "Twenty-six. Why?"

Her veil hid her surprise, and she was glad not so much because she didn't want him to know she was surprised but that she knew it would hurt his feelings.

Not that she was worried about hurting his feelings.

"I was worried you were younger," she said honestly, leaning against him.

He drew back, obviously offended. "I can't believe-"

"Are you telling me you act twenty-six?" she asked, honestly curious to see if he thought himself as mature.

He blinked rapidly several times, swallowing, obviously irritated and off balance. She was impressed that his arm never stiffened or contracted around hers. "Yes! I do. I like to have fun. Is that such a crime?"

She smiled and was safe in the knowledge that he would only be able to see the fuzzy curve of her lips, not the pity in her eyes. "Yes, baby, it is."

He scoffed, shaking his head, his arm still around hers, completely relaxed. "You are not my mother."

Sighing, she patted his arm and led him up to the safety of high class streets again.

“I know you’ll start thinking I’m leading you on, but I want you to come meet me tomorrow.”

Frowning, he gently lowered his arm so that he wasn’t touching her anymore. “Are you serinople right now?” He crossed his arms and leaned back, the tension in his face giving him away.

She nodded slowly. “I’m giving myself to you, but every man has to earn it.”

Scoffing, he turned away, slipping his hands in his pockets. “That’s not giving it to me.”

She laughed and continued to laugh when his back stiffened. “Are you implying that I should?” She knew her voice held a sharp note that broke the seductive husk she tried to keep as a mask at all times, and she did it on purpose. Disdain and contempt would kick Lekan into acting right when offering herself as a reward had worn out.

“Where should I meet you tomorrow?” he ground out. “And am I still being subtle?”

“Always be subtle.” She let her voice drop back down into the habitual whisper. “And I’ll find you.” She walked up to him, running a hand over his tense shoulders and feeling them tremble beneath her touch like a jumpy horse’s would. As he relaxed a bit, she pressed a kiss to his jaw, smiling at the sound of a ragged inhale. “Don’t worry about it.” She didn’t turn back to see him look after her as she sauntered away. She just knew he did.