Tuesday, October 14, 2008

"Never Special," Conversation, pt. 2, 372 words

And I'm concerned about the answer because, well damn it, it's been nearly nine months since I was last even asked out on a date, much less shared anything more than casual acquaintance or platonic friendship with anyone. And he is cute, in that awkward sort of way, so shy that he makes me forget my own social awkwardness because it's a drop compared to the ocean. I even caught him looking at my chest once on the way over here, unample as it is, and it was all I could do to keep from laughing when he tried to act like he hadn't been looking at all. I feel comfortable around him, more like myself than I have in weeks, even though he tried to kill me or something back in that alley a few blocks away. It's not like he hurt me, anyway, and he did ask me out to coffee afterwards.

I like him. Despite myself, I like him, or I want to like him. Even though he's a villain and I'm a, well... sort of but not quite a hero.

"N-no, not a girl," he says after a long moment's contemplation and a bite of pie. He frowns and tugs on his sleeve for a moment before finally looking up at me, right at my face for the first time since things went wrong in the alley. He was almost confident then, getting into... not his role, not really.

Getting into himself. That's it. It was like, back in the alley, he was becoming himself. Now he's someone else, that nervous and shy guy I met last night. Uncomfortable in his own skin.

Well, I know how that feels.

A momentary change comes over him, here and then gone almost as quickly as it came. But while it's here, it's like he was back in the alley again, more himself as he laughs lightly and says, "I wish it was that simple." Light reflects off his glasses for just a moment, opaquing the lenses with brilliance, and he grins.

And then it's gone, and he looks back down to his pie for another bite. He looks at me over the rim of his glasses, gone clear once more.

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