Attention

I'd only been in town for a day and found that it was more than enough time to find the address I was looking for. So I went sightseeing.
I made sure the man I was looking for'd notice me. I needed help and there were a few ways a girl who never attracted attention could get his eye.
I bought clothes I'd never wear again, even if he begged me.
A short black skirt and matching tight tank top.
Hell, I'd burn these after I got his attention.
But my alternative to this would have been to flash him.
I took the latter. Clothes wouldn't wound my pride if he started laughing. Or if he jumped on me.
I shuddered and pulled my jacket closer.
But, I did need his help, no matter the cost.
And I heard his help didn't come cheap and I only had enough money to by a fairly nice dinner. About $50. I hoped it was enough.
I'd also been told that if he was at his office that he was usually sleeping and to beware the mess.
I knew a lot about him, the locals were surprised, and the others I'd heard about.
At first, I'd gone to the Order of the Sword for help (They were the closest to home). The rather snooty assistant told me that they'd look into it.
That was two weeks ago.
I decided that if I was going to get help, I needed to be active about it.

It was easy to find the building I was looking for. On the bright neon sign, the 'D' kept flickering.
I sighed and walked for the door, "Here goes nothing."
I pushed the door open slowly, "Hello…?"
It was quiet and semi-dark. I could see the piles of trash in the room and I recoiled. Disgusting.
Ever heard of a maid?
I swallowed the thought and walked in slowly, "Hello?"
"We're closed. See the sign?" A voice grumbled from behind the desk.
There wasn't a sign on the door. Sure, there was a 'closed' sign, but it was turned to 'open'.
"Get out," The voice rumbled again.
He was drunk. He sounded drunk. And this was the man I'd come to beg for help. This drunk, perverted, never-cleans-his-shop, sorry son of a—
"What do you want?" He grumbled, "Since you obviously aren't leavin'."
I blushed and closed the door.
'Focus,' I told myself, 'You need his help.'
"I-I came looking for the Devil Hunter." God, why did I sound terrified? Why now? I'd practiced this before.
I heard his feet slid from his desk and thud on the floor.
"Who are you?"
"S-Shayde," I managed after a few moments, "Shayde Benington."
"Benington?" He grumbled. I saw his shape sit up, watching me. I could feel those icey-blue eyes running over my skin.
I shuddered.
"I know that name," he continued, "Your old man."
"M-Melbourne? Y-yeah. That's him," I gave a small sigh of relief.
I'd also been reminded that this man forgot names easily.
"So, he wants a favor?"
"N-No. I need your help because something happened to him."
"He needs me to bail him out of something?"
"Yes… and no," I played with the hem of my skirt nervously, "About a month ago, they were all killed. My parents and my brother."
He was silent for a moment and I was afraid he had fallen asleep sitting up.
"Have a seat. Tell me what happened, kid. By the way, name's Dante."
I smiled and moved to the chair in front of his desk as he began to throw old pizza boxes and crumpled beer cans to the floor. Every now and then, I saw his red sleeves, the flash of his white hair. Then he got up and pulled open the blinds. I gasped softly when I saw him.
He was taller than I thought. He wore a red leather jacket and red chaps over his black jeans. Or what I thought were jeans. I didn't want to stare there. My eyes made their way to his chest, he was wearing a black zipped up shirt, part of his collarbone exposed through the open zipper. His hair was a snowy white and his eyes were such a pretty blue. Although, he looked as though he hadn't shaved in a few days.
I felt unbelievably small as he walked back to his desk and sat back down. I played with my hair, which I'd put in a ponytail and recently died black.
"So, kid—"
"Shayde."
"Shayde. Tell me what happened to your family," He said as he sat back down, throwing his feet up on the table.