4:05 a.m.
Inigo had never felt so completely invigorated in his entire life. Energy was pulsing through him, and his pace was quick and footsteps light because of it. Owain had to speedwalk just to keep pace, which seemed to be annoying him a bit.
"I'm telling you man, that girl was it. She's the one, I can feel it in my heart of hearts!" Inigo placed his hand reverently over his chest, where his heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of the girl he'd just met. "When she looked over and smiled at me... It was like my world had skidded to a halt! Ah, but she was perfect!" He sighed dreamily.
Owain huffed and puffed next to him, tossing an irked glare his way. "Gee, that's great. I wish I could sound more enthused, but you say that about every chick."
"No, no, no, no! This is different! This is love at first sight!"
Owain rolled his eyes. "You say that a lot, too."
Inigo frowned down at his friend's impassive attitude. "Owain, do you live simply for the great pleasure of being a killjoy?"
Pursing his lips, Owain then countered with, "I don't know, Inigo. Do you live simply for the great pleasure of dragging a guy out of bed at four in the morning so that he can speedwalk great distances while listening to you ramble on about some girl you met last night?" His face turned as wrinkly as an old grape as he glared.
Inigo's left eyebrow shot up. "Wow. O-kay then... Bitter much? If you keep that dour expression on your face too long, it'll stick like that you know. The ladies don't usually go for the sourpuss look, but then again I've seen some strange things..."
Owain ignored him and shook his head, throwing his hands up in an exasperated shrug. "I mean, Viva la fitness and all, but I'm tired as hell! I'm a mess at work after just one of your episodes! Can't you meet somebody during the day, at least? You vampire!"
They both turned a corner on the sidewalk, walking out of the cover of the building they were strolling beside. A large, chilly gust of wind hit their faces, and Owain cursed as he stuffed his hands deep into his jean's pockets. For an instant Inigo felt sorry for the guy - he only had an orange muscle-shirt on, while he was nice and toasty in his black leather jacket. Maybe he had woken him up a little too early; but then he reminded himself of his friend's uncouth attitude just now, not to mention all the other times Owain had been less than companionable (it escaped his notice, however, that it had been nearly the crack of dawn during those other times, too...), and the sympathy swiftly hardened into a smug brand of humor instead. That's what you get, my friend. Karma comes back to haunt us all eventually. Inigo tugged the collar of his jacket up around his neck, and then slid his hands comfortably into the warmth of his own pockets.
"See what I mean? If we had normal conversations like normal people do, I wouldn't be freezing my ass off out here! We could be at a pub somewhere, drinking beers. Or tea, in your case," Owain continued to complain, shivering violently all the while. "But now, every place is closed till later! God, just because you have a job where nobody gives a shit if you're awake early or late, doesn't mean we're all that lucky!"
Inigo gave the grumbling youth a sidelong glance, his mock seriousness having an all but infuriating effect. "Since when have you ever had a normal conversation with anyone? Do tell."
The glare that was directed at him could have frosted the face of the continent. "Ha, ha. Funny, as always."
"No really, I'm being quite earnest here," the brunette persisted, flashing one of his roguishly handsome grins before patting Owain on the back. "I suppose you might have carried on such discourse at that job of yours. What was the establishment called again? The Raging Sword Hand Thrift Shop?"
Owain bristled at the teasing tone his friend was taking. "It's a store that sells old weaponry and relics to millionaires, actually. You wouldn't believe the amount of dough I'm rolling in right now thanks to my 'childish obsession' as you so dubbed it. But then, I wouldn't expect someone like you to get it anyway, let alone respect it." He crossed his arms and smirked up at the purple and red sky overhead. "Besides, at least I don't have to force myself to watch countless men dress up in leotards and then spend hours dancing with them all."
"Touché." Inigo frowned in silence for a while as they watched the sun slowly rise up above the mountain ridge in the distance. Then he turned to his companion and pointed a finger at him. "Just so you know, I do it because I love the art of dancing, not because of... er... Not for any other reason. And they aren't all men!"
Owain snickered and kept walking. "Hey man, whatever your journey is, who am I to judge? If you wanna dance in skintight clothes that can be seen from space, I can't stop you!"
Inigo glared potently at his back for a moment. Owain was a good friend, despite his obvious quirks, and though he realized that the comment had likely meant nothing to him, to Inigo it stung. Why was this always the response he got whenever he told others that he was a dancer? It was his passion, just as it had been his mother's, and he was proud that he had gotten as far as he had with his dream. But other men scoffed and laughed at him, while the women either loved it or looked at him strangely, as if he were a type of alien. It hurt more than anybody else would ever know.
Well, she didn't laugh. She didn't think I was odd. She looked... just about as proud as I felt.
Owain stopped, turning back to look at him with a slight frown. "Hey Inigo, you coming or what? You're the one who sentenced me to death by hypothermia, so you might as well lay her info on me while I'm waiting."
She's the only one who understands. And I might never see her again... I was so distracted by my heartbeat that I nearly forgot what my mind hesitates to remember...
That she absolutely hates me.
The emotions from before threatened to overcome him, but he valiantly fought them back. "Fine, I'll tell you. But if you start zoning out or acting nonchalant, I'm going to pull out my leotard and dance in the street until you start paying proper attention." In a few short, elegant ballet leaps, Inigo was at his friend's side again, grinning. "You got that?"
Owain's eyes had grown as round as saucers. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh, but I would." He winked and did a perfect pirouette. "You forget that I'm a worldwide phenomenon. I'm one of the best dancers in town. Let it be said that I'm no longer the shy young man who didn't have the stones to step foot onto a stage."
He was just about to pull out the leotard that he was going to use in today's class, a light blue suit with bright white stripes and sequins, when his friend's hand stopped him. "Okay, okay! You made your point! Put that thing away!" Owain glanced around nervously as Inigo stuffed the suit back into his duffel bag. The frown that marred the brunette's face disappeared as soon as he looked up, his pain hidden once again. "I'll listen, alright? I'll be as attentive as a dog waiting for scraps!"
Inigo chuckled and tousled Owain's short blonde hair. "Good boy! Who's a good boy?" he cooed, laughing as his friend's face burned hotly.
"I'm regretting this already..."
The smile faded ever so slightly. You and me both, Owain.
Earlier that night...
"So, what'll it be, Inigo?"
He smiled up at the waitress, a blonde beauty with a long ponytail and a sweet little smile. She was wearing the café's signature female uniform - a tight-fitting lacy blouse coupled with a charming plaid skirt, white stockings and a pair of classy Mary Janes - and it was obvious that the shirt was too restricting. Every few minutes she would try to discreetly reach up and tuck her jutting breasts back into place. Of course, there was no real way to be secretive about that, especially when faced with a customer as observant of the opposite sex as Inigo.
He had been habitually coming back here ever since he'd first discovered this gem of a coffee shop. At first it was because he wanted to take notice of all the hot women that frequented the place, employees included; but when the novelty of being turned down had lost its charm, he soon discovered that they sold all kinds of blends of tea here amongst their espressos, even exotic brands that couldn't be found elsewhere, and he grew to like their drinks very much. The service, the atmosphere, and the women... and world-class tea.
It couldn't get any better than that.
Pulling a twenty out of his wallet, he slid the cash along the table. "I'll have my usual."
"The usual, huh? Peppermint? You have that all the time." She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the table, her glorious busom beckoning to him. She smirked. "Why not try something a little different, a little... foreign? Variety is the spice of life, right?"
Inigo diverted his eyes from the soft, tanned skin of her chest up to her face, grinning from ear to ear. "Don't I know it, darling. So, what would you suggest?"
"Hmm... We have a nice blend of Chai that you could try..." Every word that she spoke brought her closer to him. "Or, if you're interested, we just brought in a bunch of tea from India. Very flavorful... Packs a real punch, if you know what I mean?"
"Mm..." Her lips were just about upon him when he backed up a bit, smiling apologetically. "As utterly tempting as your offer is, I think the usual will be strong enough for today. But you're welcome to join me to discuss the future possibilities, if you have a few minutes?"
The waitress drew back abruptly, looking quite disappointed that she had been so easily turned down, and hastily scribbled something onto her notepad. "Peppermint. Got it." Whipping around, she strode towards the front counter without looking back.
Inigo wasn't perturbed by it. This had happened so many times over the years that if it didn't happen, he felt awkward - more so than usual. Women had always found him attractive, and they often wanted his body more than his personality. However, he wasn't playing the game to get laid, or to endure a million one-night stands. A little human companionship was what he truly longed for. Not one of the ladies he had met so far had given him what he sought. They either wanted him to come back to their place, or they slapped him for his cheeky comments. He sighed, leaning his chin heavily on his hand.
Okay, maybe it got to him a little bit. Was there really something that wrong with him?
"Hi, excuse me."
Inigo looked blearily up to see who was addressing him and the instant he did, his heart revved hotter than a Cobra Jetpack. She was young with short brown hair, holding a book in her hands. Her body wasn't as shapely as the other women he'd run into here, but somehow it didn't matter to him. The aura about her was more than enough to intoxicate his drowning thoughts; her very essence beckoned to him in a way that made him wonder if he had ever dated her before. Everything about her screamed perfection, every conscious node in his entire being shouted 'mine', and he didn't know why.
It was stranger than strange - it was downright curious. And extremely unsettling.
"Hello...?" She waved a hand in front of his blank face, watching him with slight concern. "Are you okay? Having a seizure, maybe? I wonder if I should call 911..."
Quickly Inigo shook himself out of it. "Oh, no! I apologize! I-I'm fine, really!"
His face hadn't felt that hot in years. How could this one chick revert him to his crippling shyness in five seconds? She hadn't even said anything of significance yet!
He struggled to appear calm, reaching to place his elbow on the table and comically missing his mark the first few times. On the fourth try he successfully leaned his chin on his palm. "So... W-what can I do for a beautiful lady such as yourself?"
The girl smiled at him, and the mere sight of it melted down his insides into an ocean of molten goo. "Well, normally I wouldn't bother you, but..." She paused to take in the café for a moment. "... I really don't have anywhere to sit. All the tables are taken. Since you're sitting here all alone, I was hoping that - "
"Absolutely! Of course, you needn't even ask!" Inigo hadn't meant to cut her off, or to do it with such vigor, but frankly he was too amazed at his luck to be practicing self-restraint. He scooted over a bit on the couch and patted the seat beside him with an eager grin. "Please, make yourself comfortable! I don't mind in the least!"
She blinked at him, her cheeks coloring a bit at his verve. "Oh. Okay, um... Thanks?"
"No problem. Just call me the paragon of chivalry." She moved to plop down onto the seat beside him, and it took all he had not to tremble at her closeness. "My name's Inigo. Pleased to meet you, miss...?"
Looking up, she gave him a small smile before spreading her book open on the tabletop. "It's nice to meet you too." Then she turned her attention to the text and began to promptly ignore him.
Inigo blinked. "All right then... Off to a good start," he whispered to himself.
A few moments of uninterrupted silence settled over them both like a fine layer of sediment. The youth stared intensely at his folded hands, feeling like a total idiot for feeling... like an idiot. The only disturbance between them was the lady's occasional page-flipping and the rhythmic sound of her breathing, soft and deep, calm and low; but it wasn't quiet enough for Inigo. He couldn't figure out why each exhale sounded as if she were breathing right in his ear. Was he imagining it? They were at least an arm's length apart, yet it made no difference. He glanced around to check if anybody else was experiencing the same dilemma as he was, but the other customers appeared to be oblivious to it.
Luckily, after stealing a few nervous side glances at her, Inigo eventually worked up the courage to clear his throat and break the silence. Catching the sound, she glanced up at him, and the abruptness of it made him flounder for words.
"Ah, er... W-what kind of book do you have there?"
Her eyes immediately went back to it. "An old one."
"Right. Ha, ha." She didn't seem interested in anything aside from her reading material, but that wasn't about to stop Inigo - no matter how freaked out her presence made him. Resolved not to waste his short burst of bravery, he gave her his most charming, girl-swooning smile. "I meant, what's it about? Are you into romance novels?"
Her disgusted look confirmed that the answer was a gigantic negative. "No way! Those mushy, sappy things are a waste of time and my attention span! I'd rather read a dictionary than that trash!"
Okay, scratch that off of the list of things that they might both have in common.
"I see. So that book there is some kind of ancient dictionary?" He hovered over it curiously, squinting at the meticulously written single-spaced print. "It looks old enough to have been written by cavemen! Don't tell me you speak neanderthal?"
Much to his surprise, instead of receiving a slap for his glib humor, the lady laughed. It was a gentle sound, something unlike anything he had ever heard from a woman before. Many laughed loudly, boisterously even, but not her; this was akin to a soft bell chiming in the stillness of an early morning. Hearing it gave him pause, and he looked up at her with a slightly awestruck expression. She shook with mirth and grinned at him, taking advantage of his unfocused state by very nearly closing the cover on his nose.
"Of course I do. If I didn't, how would I ever be able to understand a word that came out of your mouth?"
So, she had a sharp wit, too. He had a feeling that he should have been offended, but all he felt like doing was laughing with her. So he did. "I walked right into that one," he chuckled, and she nodded her agreement.
"Yeah, you kind of did."
He rubbed at the back of his head with a perplexed look. "But really, what kind of book is that? Is it an old university tome, or...?"
She looked back at it, running her fingertip along the cover. "It belonged to my real mother. This is her sole possession, and the only thing I have to remember her by. Basically it chronicles the life of Prince Chrom, and the Shepherds that were led by him, during a time of great calamity. All of their exploits and heroic deeds throughout their travels are mentioned in here, though the tale is mainly centered on defeating the fell-dragon, Grima, to save the realm; time travel is also a subject of interest in the book, which, to be honest, I'm still a little skeptical about. I mean, really? How is that even possible? With Naga's blessing? I don't think so."
Inigo listened to her with a steadily shrinking attention span. But even though the material was somewhat dry - at least, to him it was - he was shocked to find that a lot of these things, if not all of them, resonated with him on a deep level; that he didn't feel as surprised about the details as he thought he should feel. It was almost like he had been there himself, once upon a time...
Just what were the odds of this girl showing up with a book whose contents gave him the exact same sensation of spine-tingling familiarity that she did?
She waited for a response and when she got none, simply shrugged and kept going. "... Yeah, there are even a few passing references to the Hero-King of myth and legend. Apparently he was... Well, I don't want to spoil the story for you any more than I already have. As you're probably now aware, I can really get going when it comes to this dusty old thing. Anyway, my point is that it sounds like a made-up fantasy; yet the scholars and professors that I've shown this to so far have all stated that everything within is credible fact - which still astounds me every time I hear it. I'm not sure how these intellectuals can believe all of this so readily, but I'm also not about to argue with them over it. A debate of that scale could take months, even years off of my life! Don't get me wrong, I'd love to believe in it like they do, but... I guess it's just harder for me to accept without ample proof. The one thing I do know to be true is that the author goes by the name Robin, because it says so on the cover. Everything else in my opinion is shrouded by a veil of mystery that seems fantastical at best. So, depending on who you ask and what you think is real, I guess you could say it's a book that contains a crucial part of Ylisse's history as well. I don't know why mom had it, or where she even got it, but it's my prized treasure."
The woman took a few deep breaths and smiled ruefully. "I probably bored you half out of your skull just now. Like I said, I can't help preaching about this book to anybody willing to listen. It's my pride and joy."
Inigo tried his hardest not to look like a braindead zombie. "I can definitely see that. Wow... I almost wish I didn't ask!" When she cocked an eyebrow at him, he coughed and hastily changed the subject. "Joking, obviously! Ha, ha! Eh, so does this mean you're adopted, then?"
The bright enthusiasm that she had been radiating for the whole conversation thus far suddenly died at his words, and her eyes lost almost all their light altogether. "Yeah. I was only an infant when they died, leaving me at the mercy of the nearest orphanage; so I was also too young to have any lasting memories of her or my father."
Inigo frowned, regretting that he brought up a topic that could make her fine smile vanish into thin air. "I'm sorry for prying."
"It's fine." She shook her head, then glanced over at him. "You were curious, as most people are when they see this thing. It's not every day you see a girl lugging around such a thick, watermarked old book. I think I should apologize for chatting your ear off about it! We've only just met and all."
Yet I feel like I've known you forever.
"That's not what I... Oh, it's not important," he relented, resting his left arm on the table with a grin. He pointed at the huge book with the same hand. "So, does that historical volume follow you around everywhere you go, or is it just tagging along for today?"
"Actually, I was going to donate it to the local library tomorrow." She cocked her head at an endearing angle. "The fact that something that old was passed on to me by my mom is important, but I bet other people would love to read it, too. I don't think it'd be right to hoard it all for myself, no matter how precious it is to me. If mom were here, I think she'd agree with, not to mention approve of, my decision. Besides, I've read it front to back so many times that everything's practically engraved in my brain already. I could never forget it. That's why I came here, by the way - to enjoy being with my mother's memento one last time before giving it up. Seriously, it's like a clingy, ugly pet more than anything else."
Inigo face-palmed hearing that. "And I'm distracting you from your, er... ugly pet. Now I feel awful..."
They both laughed until he finally sighed and shook his head. Dragging his hand down his face, he gradually revealed an uncharacteristically humorless smile. "Just tell me to shut up whenever you want to get back to your reading."
I-I should just end this. If I talk to her any longer, I'll be in danger. Of what, I'm still unsure... But I can feel it, all the same. Gods, why did I let her sit by me? What possessed me to...
She looked unsure for a moment, but then she reached over to place her hand on top of the one he'd left on the table. "I couldn't do that to you. You aren't bothering me, either. This is kind of nice, to be honest."
He moved his hand away from his eyes to stare at her. The soft curves of her face were lovely, even when she was wearing such a lonely expression. "Nobody I've met has really taken an interest in this book other than to nitpick over what's inside or to comment on how good it would look as a coaster. Usually the latter rather than the former. I suppose few people around here are avid readers."
The lady's hand was radiating a wonderful kind of heat, and it was making Inigo feel shy and bold all at once. His body was reacting to her every look, her every touch, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. This person was subjecting him to the most pleasurable kind of insanity imaginable. An image of her smile flitted back into his mind, and he instantly wanted to see it. This, right now, was one emotion he didn't want to see marring her angelic face ever again. He wanted her to show something, anything, other than what he'd felt for the entirety of his life. If he had to joke around until she smiled, tickle her until she laughed, kiss her until she forgot every single thing in the world except for him...
He swallowed hard, sweltering under the passionate roar of his feelings. Did she have any inkling of what she was doing? She was rocking him to his core, just by existing.
Inigo mentally shook himself. Being near her was doing something to him that never happened around other women. For the first time, he felt wanted, needed. He had no idea if she was projecting this idea onto him or if he was fabricating it himself, but there was no denying that she actually appreciated him - all of him, not just his body. There had never before been a singular moment in time where he had felt this way with anyone else, not even with his own mother. This girl beside him right now... He couldn't explain it, but she was drawing him to her, like a bear to honey.
Like a wolf to its soulmate.
Those eyes of hers were still locked with his, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could speak. "W-well, I read. Not as much as you might, mind you, b-but I do read a little."
The woman looked extremely pleased to hear that. "Oh? What kind of books do you like?"
"Er... Romance novels, mostly." He smiled wryly.
Her eyes grew wide, and she brought both of her hands up to her mouth in shock. Inigo nearly whimpered at the loss of contact. "Oh? Oh! I'm so sorry, I had no idea! I just thought you were trying to flirt with me! No offense, but you kind of look like a rogue. Jeez, I shouldn't have said that either! I'm sorry... again..."
A rogue? Me? Inigo thought about it for a second. Hm. Not too far off the mark I suppose...
But he decided against telling her that for now. Instead he waved it off like it was nothing. "Please, don't be! I get that a lot. I suppose it's the way I come across. Not everyone has the patience to listen to me for very long."
Obviously relieved that she hadn't insulted him, the woman smiled her gratitude, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear at the same time; and that simple action somehow made it so that he couldn't stop himself from watching her.
This was getting curiouser and curiouser...
Inigo unconsciously bit his lip as he stared. He wondered if she felt the same way about him that he did about her. Then he began to gravitate back to the original question of why he was feeling this way. No other woman had ever done this to him, made him surrender his heart so utterly. He had met millions upon millions of devastatingly gorgeous ladies over the years. Why, he was the very ocean that crashed upon their perfectly sculpted shore! But here before him sat a strip of average land that was untouched, completely unremarkable to the naked eye; and yet he could sense that his fingerprints still lingered there. His perplexity heightened as he thought about it, and he could already feel a severe headache coming on.
Why was she any different?
The same waitress that had served him earlier came back with his tea and she coldly handed it to him, but he wasn't aware of that. His eyes didn't flicker from his unexpected visitor for an instant as she busied herself with ordering her own drink. Instead they wandered up and down with all the subtlety that an interested glance allowed. She wasn't a model, by any sense of the word. That much he'd deduced within the first five seconds. Her figure was absolutely normal, her chest fair but not the fairest he'd seen. Her hair was average and her clothing style was exceedingly plain. She could easily blend into a crowd of women and disappear.
Then what was it about her that captivated him?
Once the waitress had gone, she turned back to face him, her eyes sparkling from the light of the street lamp that stood somberly outside their window. Immediately he was drawn in. Those eyes were slowly refilling with a strange lightness that he couldn't place, the glow of them stirring up his heart and soul until everything within him wanted to burst into flight. Funny how one innocent look could send him reeling in the dark.
Ah well, at the very least she seemed to be enjoying her time with him, right? She'd said as much herself, which was more than any other dame had ever said to his face. He swallowed anxiously. Once again his inner musings turned to her maybe being attracted to him; but instead of feeling joy, now his head swam with pure panic. Why did that unnerve him even more than being rejected? Was it because he had more to lose? Was there truly more at stake this time?
Ugh, so many questions with few answers!
But, no... He honestly did know the answer to that, deep down. There was no point in trying to lie to himself. This was the first time he'd ever realized it, thought hard enough about it to make it plain and obvious. The honest truth was that his flirtatious ways weren't exactly ideal for maintaining a relationship.
Sweet honeyed words and base compliments had been a part of him since he was a little boy, and he didn't know any other way to interact with women. It was unfortunate, but there it was all the same. His mindset made him feel unworthy of her sincere affections, though the reasoning behind how it all began was pure. And, no matter what he really was underneath the philandery and smiles, Inigo had always believed that he was a gentleman deserving of a woman's love.
Now he was beginning to wonder about that. Everybody makes mistakes, even gentlemen.
He'd been looking at the superficial things and pondering why he liked her at all. Never mind that she was funny, accepting, kind... Gods, he had just caught himself acting as shallow as all of the women he'd been turning down lately - noticing only outward appearances, and ignoring everything else.
So he really had been succumbing to his own poisonous miasma. It hadn't dawned on him till he glimpsed her smiling face, of course. If he hadn't met her tonight, he would still be the same sickening man.
Originally he'd told himself that he would never truly act that way forever, would never permanently stoop that low. He had only planned to use it until he overcame the shyness that he had inherited from Olivia. Since when had it become a common habit? When had he forgotten that promise he'd made way back then?
It was amazing how one girl could rock his world so profoundly. Inigo's face fell. He stared down at his lap, his heart twisting like a poisonous snake in his breast. Karma was a bitch, he knew far too well.
And this time the stakes were too high for his liking.
"So... Do you come here often, Inigo?"
The way she said his name gave him chills, but his darkened mood instantly tamped the feeling down. Why do I twitch at her words as if I have every right to? Trying his best to hide the negative pins poking away at his soul, he lifted his head and was greeted by her warm, kind features. Seeing it made his stomach churn. She clearly had no clue who she was getting involved with. If she knew, then she would have up and left ages ago.
Wait... She did know. The first thing she'd called him was a rogue and boy, was he ever a big one. The only reason why she was hanging around was because he'd told her otherwise; he wasn't about to inform her that her observation was spot on. The single woman he wanted to spend the rest of his days getting to know was within arm's reach, and here he was, wishing he could crawl away and hide his pathetic self...
Her calm mien exuded a slight curiosity as to his thoughtful silence, and Inigo nearly groaned. Shit, how long had he been sitting there brooding!? Exhaling a pent up breath, he half-smiled.
"Every day for the past five years. You?"
"First time," she admitted. Inigo watched those luscious lips curl upwards and he had to tear his gaze away before he lunged forward to kiss her. His hands nursed his cup of tea absently. Keeping them idle would offer him too many temptations.
"I guess that's why I don't remember you." It wasn't entirely a lie. He stared down into the cup at the reflection of his face and sighed. "I would have recalled someone as lovely as you if I'd seen you before."
The comment held less heart than usual; but still she giggled, and her hands found their way to his again, gently drawing them away from his cup. "It's funny, but... I feel like I've known you all my life." She searched his face, her expression both teasing and serious. "Is that weird?"
He swallowed a big lump. So she was experiencing a bad case of déjà vu, just like him. Great. She was showing signs of actually liking him. Great. Things could only pick up from here on out unless he stopped this insanity now.
Tell her it is weird. Tell her things are moving too fast. Say she's crazy. Whatever excuse you can think of. Back off before you get seriously hurt.
But his mouth rebelled along with the rest of him, forcing out the answer that his heart knew to be true.
"I... I don't think so," he muttered, "because... I feel the same, frankly..."
Their faces slowly came closer together; and though Inigo tried with all his might to stop himself before the inevitable happened, he could tell that he didn't have the strength to. He just knew that once he started kissing her, he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. No one and nothing in this vast world could ever make him stop. It was a terrifyingly exhilarating sensation, and he just knew that once he had tasted her sweetness he wouldn't be able to go on without it. There would be no survival if she left him.
Her eyes slid shut, eyelashes fanning delicately against her cheeks, and he prepared to take the plunge. His hands slid around her waist of their own volition, possessively pulling her against him. Their lips were now so close to touching that he could feel her breath ghosting along his jawline. Each gust of air made his skin prickle in anticipation.
A shaky breath rushed out of him before he could keep it in check. Slowly his eyes closed. Everything inside him trembled, his heart included. In this instant he was more conflicted about his own desires than he ever had been before.
No... Don't... You will regret this, you can't expect her not to find out someday...
Neither of them heard someone approaching until it was too late.
"Your drink, miss," the waitress said acidly, no doubt recalling the moment when she had done the exact same thing. The couple jumped and swiftly separated. Inigo leaned on his hand to stare embarrassedly out the window while his partner gave a feeble excuse for their behavior before accepting the drink and thanking the waitress for her service.
"You know," the waitress commented in a very poor offhand manner, "I seem to recall you telling me that your usual was strong enough. But I think this blend here is a bit... plainer than you're used to."
Inigo glanced sharply up at her, and her smile turned ice cold. "Far be it from me to judge. Strong or weak, sweet or bitter, perfect or flawed... If that's the type you like, then by all means don't let me influence you. But I will say this..." She leaned forward conspiratorially, then made sure that both of them could clearly hear what she said next. "... All of the other blends really do miss your attentions."
His eyes narrowed as she smiled a smug, victorious smile. Damn. I really should have seen this coming.
After the vindictive waitress left, the two of them sipped their drinks in awkwardness for a while, not daring to look up at each other. Inigo cursed inwardly at his stupidity. In retrospect, he probably should have given some consideration to the fact that he'd hit on pretty much everyone in the building at least once, and thus should have taken her elsewhere in order to safely continue the conversation...
But common sense wasn't exactly a tool that Inigo used very often; when and if it was used, it didn't do him much good, being as blunt as it was. In fact, the whole concept of 'common sense' usually only occurred to the youth when it was far too late to be properly employed...
It definitely didn't help matters when that brain of his was love-drugged, fully preoccupied, and given such a puzzling and engaging distraction. After all that, there really wasn't much room left for logical thought. So, heedless of the potential consequences, Inigo had foolishly chosen to stay in his little corner booth with the object of his true affection, blissfully sipping away at his tea. Now this was the result.
He bloody well deserved it.
At length, the girl put her cup down. "Is there a specific reason why you come here all the time?" she asked quietly.
Inigo gave her a sidelong glance and bit his lip. Should he tell her about all the women he'd wooed in this café over the years? Well, by now she could probably guess how often he'd been surrounded by female company. He was actually glad that their little moment had been interrupted, that he didn't get the chance to drown in the flavor of her; but it also seemed pointless somehow, a hollow victory. Even though they hadn't kissed, she still owned him, heart and soul; and sadly, there didn't exist any hope that she would still want him after that waitress's little outburst. No matter which way he turned, now she would see the part of him that he wanted to erase but couldn't. The rest of him would be irrelevant, clouded by the shadows of his reputation. Hiding or denying any further would simply be useless.
Then in that case, should he tell her about his dancing career? Should he come clean and tell her that he was already madly in love with her?
Yes, that's what this devastating emotion is. I'm in love with you... But you probably won't believe me.
In the end, he decided that honesty was the best policy. "I used to come here to meet girls before and after I went to work," he revealed, cautiously glancing her way every now and then. "But, after a while, I discovered that their tea was delicious and unparalleled by any other café around, so I made it my morning stop and my nightly haunt. That's the only reason why I still visit today. Girls do approach me from time to time, but I quit seeking them out a long time ago."
It sounded weak, even though it was mostly the truth. Hardly an excuse suitable enough to explain away his rakehellish nature. He watched her mull this over for a while, her expression shifting to an extremely neutral one that made him uncomfortable. Hopefully he hadn't just messed this up big time. There would be no forgiving himself if he did.
Finally, she looked up at him with the same sadness in her eyes as before - like she had just lost someone dear to her. "I wish I could believe that. I wish my first impression had been wrong."
Inigo closed his eyes against the pain. He should've known that this would catch up with him one day. That all of his fraternizing would bite him in the ass once he met the girl of his dreams. He heard her shuffling in her seat, and suspected that she was about to get up and leave. The very thought of it made him feel like tossing himself down at her feet and begging for her to stay. Gods, he'd wanted her to leave a minute ago, and now he was wishing she wouldn't go! He didn't want her to walk out of his life now that he'd actually found her! Why couldn't he make up his damn mind!?
It was then he noticed that she hadn't told him her name. Was this why? So that if she found out he was playing with her, she could fade away without hope of being found? He gritted his teeth.
I'm not playing. This is serious. This matters, damn it!
Right at that moment a tiny, vital lightbulb clicked on in his head. That was why he was so enraptured with her. That was why he couldn't let go. She was important. She was special.
Her looks may have been different than most of the ladies he'd chatted up recently, but then again so was her personality. Where the others were beautiful outside and rotten inside, she was the complete opposite. Actually, that wasn't even true. Every single inch of her was gorgeous. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her. Whatever the rest of the women lacked, she didn't. This girl here was perfect for him, a perfect fit. She was everything, and if changing himself inside and out was what it took to keep her, then he'd gladly do it.
Opening his eyes just in time to see her rising up out of the seat, Inigo's hand shot out to grab her wrist. Her glare was venomous, but he pleaded with his entire soul for her to show even a slight amount of forbearance.
"You can believe that. You can. It's the truth, and I'm not doing this to get you in bed with me, I swear it. I'm not that kind of man."
"Then, exactly what type of man are you, Inigo?" she demanded, trying to wrench her arm free. "Apparently you're the man who every spurned woman cries over every night before she falls asleep. One date later, they find themselves tossed aside while you go out on the prowl again. Maybe you don't sleep with them, like you say; but I can guarantee that those precious few who don't see you for what you really are... They're the ones who pay for it in the end, because they thought you loved them. But you don't."
Inigo nodded, conceding in his head that she did have a wonderful point. "I never saw it that way until you put it in no uncertain terms, sweetheart. You're right. The few ladies that I've dated have only been taken out on one, maybe two dates, max. Most others refused me, slapped me, or did both at once. But... but as much as I deserve that treatment, I can't ignore the fact that none of them connected with me like you do!"
Gradually she stopped trying to pull away from him. Inigo wanted more than anything to look up at her, to see if his words were having any effect, but if he did now he felt certain he'd lose his nerve. "When I mentioned what I did for a living, they gawked at me. Not all of them, but a fair number of girls that I've invited to tea reacted like that - those who actually said yes, mind you. They also couldn't stand my personality, and were only interested in my looks. That's why I keep getting accosted to this very day. Then you showed up here, tonight. Right as all the tables were full. Right as I was about to order my tea. If it were any other night, you would have passed me by. But... here you are. You talked to me, accepted me where others wouldn't!"
He summed up all of the bravery he possessed to look up squarely into her face. "You're feeling the same way that I do, don't deny it; and I, for one, don't want to squander this meeting by letting you run away from me. There has to be some kind of reason why we were brought together like this, why everything about us seems so familiar and so right. I can't begin to explain it, but if given time I can explain why I ended up the way I am now. There is a reason why, a good one, I promise."
She still seemed a bit skeptical, and his voice took on a pleading quality that he'd never heard before. "Look, I know what I am, and I know I'm not worthy of you yet. But in a while, maybe I could prove otherwise to you. Please, give me a chance! Even a tiny one! I'll take whatever I can get! Just..." Tears welled up in his eyes, and he hurriedly wiped them away. "... J-just don't leave me here all alone, with nothing but the weight of my regrets. I couldn't stand it. At least tell me your name!"
The silence between them was crushing; and even though nobody else in the café seemed to be taking any notice of their discussion, Inigo sensed that he was under the scrutinizing eye of everyone present. She looked hard at him for a long time, and eventually he let go of her. That was it, then. Her eyes were telling him that, despite his every effort to save whatever remained of their bond, it was too late. She had given up on him. Suddenly all of the energy seemed to drain out of him, and he felt exceedingly tired.
"What do you do for work?" she abruptly asked, out of the blue.
Being so distraught that he could hardly give a shit about embarrassment anymore, Inigo spread his arms wide. "I'm a dancer. I do shows around the world and, when I'm not busy with that, I teach dance classes with other experts."
Her eyes twinkled, but not with humor like he'd expected. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that she was proud of him. "Well, isn't that something. Good for you for keeping at it in the face of other's disdain."
She turned to leave, and Inigo's heart flattened like a balloon with all of the helium let out of it. He jumped to his feet and took a few steps after her, reaching out for what he might never have again. "So that's it? No name, no goodbye? Will I ever see you again?"
She pushed the café door open and turned to look back at him - something that none of the previous girls had ever done. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see."
6:09 a.m.
"Wow... That's quite the story," Owain remarked as he sat down on a bench to wait for the bus. "If I were you, I'd be bawling my eyes out right now."
Inigo smiled weakly and scratched his chin with his finger. I'm not going to tell him about the mess I became after that. Let's just say that two gallons of rocky road ice cream later, I'm ten pounds heavier. Sigh.
He leaned his arm on the back of the bench and made a face. "Do you think she'll turn up again one day?"
Owain shrugged. "Who knows? Women are beyond my scope of comprehension, pal. You'd probably know more about it than I do."
Inigo was silent for a minute, and Owain looked back to see the brunette's troubled face staring out at nothing. He frowned to himself for a moment, then patted his friend's arm. "But if I had to guess, I think she'll be back."
"You do!? Really!?"
Inigo's face lit up from the tiniest hope of her maybe coming back to see him again, and Owain turned around in his seat to witness the reaction. He grinned at him, had a strangely gratified look on his face as though he were pleasantly surprised that a certain lady-killer was actually taking his opinion to heart, and crossed his arms.
"What's this? No sarcasm? No snide remarks about how I would know anything about women in the first place? Gods Inigo, this girl must have her claws sunk real deep into you if you're actually listening that intently to me, of all people! Not that I mind, of course. I'm glad you've finally realized my vast intellectual potential."
Inigo blushed and coughed loudly to cover up his sudden bout of embarrassment. "I-I mean... What makes you say that?"
"Well, lemme see..." Owain put his hands behind his head and leaned his back against the bench once more, staring lazily at the clouds passing by overhead. "She told you to wait and see, right? Most of the chicks I know wouldn't give a guy a passing hope like that if they never wanted to see him again. Unless she's super cruel." He tilted his head back to stare questioningly at Inigo. "Is she cruel?"
"She has a razor sharp wit, but I doubt that she's intentionally cruel."
"Right! So there you go! Just go back to that café and live there until she shows her face! By the way, can I have your apartment? And your stuff?"
Inigo frowned, lightly cuffing the side of Owain's head. "I can't trust you to be serious for ten seconds, can I?"
"Negatory, amigo!"
Owain turned to see Inigo's retreating back moving further down the sidewalk. He frowned slightly. "H-hey, wait... Where're you going now!? You do know I was joking, right? About the whole 'living-at-the-café' thing? I'm pretty sure they don't allow that!"
Inigo held up his hand to wave, not bothering to stop or slow his pace. "I know; but something important just occurred to me when you said that, and I'm eager to test it out."
Two weeks later...
Inigo took a sip of his tea, brewed to perfection, and tried to resist glancing at his watch for the hundredth time. Apart from work, he had been spending every possible minute at the same café where he'd met this mystery girl, just like Owain had suggested. So far she hadn't shown up once.
"Damn... They're on the brink of closing," he grumbled, watching as the waitresses started their final tally at the cash register. In his agitation he snuck another peek at his watch, then craned his neck to look at the doorway. "Five more minutes tops, and then they'll be kicking me out. Gods, please let her come by today..."
There was a firm tap on his shoulder. "Whatcha lookin' at, pal?"
Inigo winced at the tone and turned stonily to face Brady. "Nothing. No one. And just for the record, that information is none of your concern, woman-stealer."
"Really? Ya gonna hold that against me for the rest'a my life?" Brady shook his head, his scary features twisting into a disappointed frown. "I swear, ya gotta be the most insecure guy I've ever met. I never see ya without a lady hangin' off your arm. You'd think you'd be happy as a pig in manure."
Inigo scowled. "I think you mean 'pig in the mud'. Anyway, I'm not happy and never will be again until you leave!" With that he rose and began to push Brady vigorously towards the exit. "Go on, get out of here! You know I hate being seen with you in public! Quickly, before she arrives!"
"Woah! Hey, easy with the man-handlin' there, buddy! I got no plan to steal away your latest floozy! 'Sides, it was a complete accident that those girls saw me cryin' over that newborn baby! I tried, but I just couldn't hold in the tears! Honest!"
"Accident, my ass!" Inigo shouted, pushing even more forcefully. "I bet you planned that from the very beginning... Argh, don't get me started! And, just so you know, this lady isn't a floozy! She's the farthest thing from it, so just get lost, would you!?"
Brady was grabbing the edges of the doorway to prevent himself from doing a faceplant on the cement, but after hearing that he glanced over his shoulder with what looked like honest sincerity. "Huh. You must care about this chick a lot, eh?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact!" Inigo's back was pressed against Brady's and he was digging his feet in, pushing for all he was worth. "So. Just. Go. Away. For once!"
"You're afraid she'll fall for me, your terrifyin' thug of a violinist, instead'a you?"
"Yes! Of course I am!" he exclaimed, flustered and exhausted beyond belief. "There, are you happy now? I'm scared that she'll fall for your obvious sensitive charms and leave me behind! She's the first woman I've ever truly loved and if I lose her to the likes of you..." Inigo whimpered miserably and covered his face with his hands. "It would be kinder to push me off of a bridge! I would never recover from such a blow. I'd likely wither away into a husk of the man I once was."
"Man, you're such a drama king - or should I call ya queen? Can't tell which one suits ya more," Brady snickered, and Inigo very nearly whipped around and punched him in the face; but before he could, he noticed that the damnable man had stepped aside and in his place stood...
"Ah. Er, it's you." His punch still hung in the air, half-executed, and his expression looked adorably sheepish. "How much of that did you hear...?"
She grinned, tucking a lock of her brown hair behind her ear. "I heard enough, thanks to my extensive knowledge of the neanderthal's language and behavioral patterns." Taking a few steps inside the building, she smiled kindly at Brady, who gave her a timid smile in return. "So, you have a violinist to showcase your dancing? He seems like a pretty sweet guy. I can't believe you were going to punch him out."
Inigo laughed nervously despite everything and, with a significant amount of effort, relaxed his fist. "Yes, well... Um, Brady's always been a talented friend of mine. I consider myself lucky that he decided to work with me instead of someone else."
"Suuuure. That's why ya were tryin' to kick my sorry butt outta here a few seconds ago," Brady said sarcastically, crossing his arms. "My dear pal Inigo didn't want such a nice lady to see what great buds we are. Right, buddy?"
Inigo frowned at him and looked like he was about to say something less than polite in response; but when he glanced over at the lady's shrewd expression, he wisely clammed up. "Ahem... I was beginning to think you would never come."
"For a while, I considered just leaving you hanging." She took a few steps closer to him, and he could literally feel the heat she was giving off. "I thought that you were a lost cause, and that everything you said could very well have been one great lie for your own benefit. Men like you can be capable of those kinds of things. But when I read through mom's book one last time to clear my head, I came across some minute details that I had previously overlooked before... And I realized something."
Inigo swallowed thickly, wondering just how much more salt she was prepared to heap upon his already gaping wound. "And that is...?"
Much to his chagrin, she smiled that same smile that he recalled seeing right before she slung her sharp tongue around. Here it comes. Brace yourself Inigo...
"I discovered that you are a colossal moron that needs either constant mothering or a competent babysitter to keep you out of trouble."
Inigo sweatdropped. Coming from her, that was just... Ouch.
"Ah. W-well I... I suppose a lady is welcome to form her own opinions, no matter how incorrect and abstract they may be... Although, somehow I have heard that one before." He paused, frowning down at his feet. "I can't believe I've been told that more than once. How embarrassing..."
Quickly she shook her head, laughing at his kicked puppy expression. "Calm down, I was kidding. Sort of. Anyway, I meant to say that I finally understand why mom left me that thing. I read it closer than I ever have before, and the author, Robin? It turns out that she dated, fell in love with and consequently married a certain man with a penchant for flirting with any woman who crossed his path. It says in the text that he was a friendly but shy young man who talked with the ladies to overcome that same shyness. Sound familiar?"
Oddly, it did. Everything about that description matched Inigo to a T. He blinked.
"Yes... It sounds like the story of my life, actually. Does it say anything about anyone else in there?"
Her finger went thoughtfully to her lips. "Well, it mentions a bunch of names. Severa, Cynthia, Owain, Brady..." The violinist perked up a bit when he heard his name. "But I was mostly concerned about Robin."
Inigo didn't understand why that would be important. He gave her a confused look. "Forgive my asking, but... Why is that such a big deal?"
"Why do you think? Because that's my name."
As soon as she said it, he realized exactly what that meant. His mouth fell open as he processed that information, and she giggled as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "I'd always thought it was a mere coincidence before, but... Meeting you and rereading that ugly pet, well, it just made everything click into place."
"So, let me see if I have this straight..." Inigo muttered. He looked down at her, his eyes shimmering. "The theory is we've been reincarnated, and you're saying that we...? I mean, you and I are...?"
Robin beamed happily, her radiance enveloping his soul in its warm embrace. "Yeah. We've literally been together for ages. That's why it was easy for me to talk so openly with you, and why we were both so comfortable together. That's the only logical explanation I can think of, at any rate."
"Then, does that mean what I think it means...?" he asked breathlessly.
Robin giggled, her smirk turning playful. "What do you think it means? Don't tell me that I have to spell it out for you."
"That might just be required. I am, after all, nothing more than a neanderthal." He grinned, and hearing her laugh softened his voice to an incredibly gentle timbre. "Do you love me, Robin?"
Her cheeks flushed a soft pink hue and she looked away from him, acting shy for the first time since he'd met her. Yet he knew there was no longer any need to be worried; her smile gave her answer away.
"I do. Despite your history of flirting, despite how much I fear that you might fall in love with another girl tomorrow... There's no one else in this world who makes me smile like you do. When we're apart I feel... incomplete, whereas I never used to feel that way before I saw you. I can't help it, Inigo - I love you."
"Phew. That's a load of weight off of my shoulders." Inigo sighed, and his relieved smile shone in his face. "I was so terrified that you were gone forever, that I would never get to tell you how much you meant to me. I could only pray that your heart might still give me another chance. I don't know how I would have gone on smiling without you, Robin."
Her face started to become a picture of guilt. "Inigo..."
"No, don't apologize. You were right to call me out the way you did. For the first time I was scared, afraid that I'd messed up the best thing that had ever walked into my life, and I... I never would have changed my ways if you hadn't shown up when you did. I'm really quite glad you pointed out how wrong I was to act so frivolously around women."
He reached out, softly brushing the backs of his fingers along her cheek. "You don't have to worry about me hurting you. I won't make that mistake ever again. All I want to see from now on is a smile on your face and love in your eyes - directed solely at me, I hope?"
She winked at him. "Well, that all depends on how well you treat me."
Inigo's arms tightened around her waist, his grin turning as passionate as his words. "I plan on treating you as well as you deserve, like a queen... Unless, of course, a spanking is needed."
Her eyebrows rose up. "Is that so? What if I tied you down before you could even try to spank me?"
"You can try, my dear, but I suspect that will be a difficult endeavor."
"I am pretty flexible, you know..."
"I will know very soon... Possibly tonight?"
Brady sat down heavily in one of the booths, making a retching face and pointing at his tongue distastefully. "Not to interrupt the romantic moment, but I'm on the verge a' pukin' here. I do still exist, folks."
Inigo glared over at his friend resentfully, but Robin laughed and took the hint. "Sorry about that, Brady."
Gently she pushed away from her man, almost regretfully. "As for you... Possibly. But that's a very, very small possibility."
"I can live with that. Not everything needs to happen all at once." Inigo put both hands behind his head with a casual smirk. "Hm. So we're fated to be together, huh? I guess that explains why I had the sudden urge to kiss you like there was no tomorrow the other day."
Robin cocked her head at that endearing angle again. "Would you really have kissed me if we hadn't been interrupted?"
He gave her his most charming smile and cupped her chin lovingly. "Darling, there would have been no stopping me if I'd gotten in that first kiss."
"Again, I'm still here!" Brady persisted, but when everyone ignored him he threw his hands up and grumbled something unpleasant.
Robin blushed profusely; the addition of that lovely color along her cheeks made Inigo wish he could just smother her with kisses right here, right now. But with Brady the Sensitive looming in the background, he settled instead for fondly ruffling her hair. "Robin, let me sincerely thank you for bringing that dusty old thing into my life. Ahaha, don't give me that look - I meant it as a compliment. We wouldn't be here right now if you didn't have such an... interesting... book on hand."
He leaned in close, then hesitated before whispering, "Um, by the by, not that I'm doubting you or your mother or that book's reliability, but... It says in there that my past self had a penchant for flirting, huh? Are you certain that article is about me...? There have to have been tons of other flirts out there, even way back then."
Robin dug around in her bookbag and pulled the tome out, flipped expertly to a page halfway through the book, then held it up for him to see. "Your name is Inigo, right? You weren't lying about that too, were you?"
Inigo sighed, then reached up to scratch the back of his head. "Gods, that really is me. I wasn't expecting to see such a detailed picture! It's so well-drawn... They even got the glimmer in my eyes right - hey, wait a second!"
He peered closer at the page, his eyes narrowing worriedly. "My current hair actually looks worse than this!" he exclaimed, pointing an adamant finger at the illustration. "How is it that I look so bland in comparison!? What happened!? Good gods, was my hair really that perfect once upon a time!? Not possible!" His hands flew up to self-consciously protect his head. "Could it be the stress of my lifestyle has taken its toll over the centuries!?"
Robin sighed heavily as she watched her man preening like a hen, and Brady placed his hand consolingly on her shoulder. "Ya sure can pick 'em, Robin."
She smirked. "Oh, it's not that bad. I think it's kind of adorable actually." Then she teasingly clasped her hands together, like a little girl would if she saw a pony. "Aren't you just the cutest thing, Inigo?"
The youth started at the accusation, blushed like a madman and grabbed at his chest as though everyone were staring at him naked. "A-adorable!? Cute!? I am not adorable or cute! How can you both joke around like this when I'm in the middle of such a dire crisis!?"
Brady chuckled, jabbing his thumb in his friend's direction. "Ya think this is cute? Then you'd love to see him twenty minutes before a show! Gods, is he ever paranoid about his looks. He asks me at least twenty times if his hair has enough 'manly sheen' for the audience to notice; and if I say it don't, he squeals and runs into the dressin' room to hide."
Inigo's face turned a mortified crimson and he covered it up with both hands, shaking his head like a little kid. "DAMN YOU! SHUT UP, BRADY!"
"Ya should know by now I only do that to bug ya, Inigo. Hell if I know if your hair has sheen," the violinist admitted with a shrug. "Half the time I dunno what you're even talkin' about. Speak plain English for once, pal."
Robin clicked her tongue at the both of them. "All right children, playtime's over." She moved over to Inigo's side and hugged him consolingly. "Inigo, just so you know, I think you look as handsome as ever."
His hands moved fractionally away from his face so that he could peek out at her. "Truly? You think so?"
"Yes. Now, would you please move your hands so I can kiss the man I love so dearly?"
Reaching up, she gingerly moved his hands off of his flaming face and Inigo looked away shyly.
"I-I suppose... But I'll only kiss you if that horrid man leaves me in peace!"
The hard features of Brady's face made his expression look fearsome, but years of knowing him gave Inigo the expertise to recognize his nonchalance. "Aw, go on then. Since I can't seem to escape it, I'll leave you lovebirds alone," he drawled with a wave of his hand. "Just lemme know when you're doin' it so's I have time to look at anythin' but you two."
"You make it sound like we're going to do the most haneous of acts in front of you," Inigo retorted with a frown. "It's just a small kiss, Brady. Where's the harm in that?"
He grimaced and buried his head under his arms. "Could ya please just get it over with already? You guys are makin' me sit here waaaay too long!"
Robin turned her eyes heavenward and then, with extreme calmness, like she was talking to a child: "Brady, would you like to leave before we do this?"
Flashing her a grateful look, Brady rushed out the door. "Yeah - er, thank you ma'am. Later!" In a blink he was gone. He didn't even bother to look back.
"Quite the unusual friend you have there," Robin said humorously.
Inigo sighed, pulling her back into his arms and resting his chin on her hair. "Yes, and he isn't the strangest out of the bunch either. Let me tell you, patience is a hard to come by commodity in my world."
"I could tell that much when you nearly punched him - and me, for that matter - in the head."
Inigo smiled apologetically, even though he hadn't actually hit her. "I... I really would have regretted that, you know."
"Yes, you would have," Robin agreed with a leer, "especially after I kicked you directly in the family jewels."
"Oh yes, I would have regretted that a great deal," he moaned with a pained expression. "I hope you don't get the urge to do me any serious long time damage in the near future..."
She didn't respond at first and Inigo grew rigid for a moment, expecting some kind of surprise attack for his teasing. But all of the tension melted away the instant he felt her lips against his throat. Every litte suckling kiss that she laid upon his skin made his joints gradually turn weaker and weaker. The breath caught in his lungs, and every second that ticked by became all the more intense.
He let out a shallow breath. "Uh... R-Robin..."
"Mm? What is it?" Her lips moved wonderfully against his neck with every word. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Heavens no! Er, I-I mean... Ugh..." Inigo trembled as her kisses grew deeper, her nibbles more heated. His face felt as hot as a raging inferno, and the rest of him was quickly following suit. "I don't... I can hardly... It's hard to think when you're doing that..."
"Then don't think," she whispered. "Just do."
She had to say it. In a matter of minutes he was kissing the life out of her, one after another after another, and it was exactly as he'd previously thought. There was no way to control himself. He simply couldn't stop tasting what he had been denied for so long. Drinking her in like a fine cup of tea seemed like his every right. And now, after feeling that way, he accepted that reincarnation was real. How else could he explain this? Every kiss was warm, delicious and extremely familiar. Every sound she made was the purest aphrodisiac in the history of forever. Every time she said his name, his entire being swelled with love and possessiveness. What else could that mean, if not that they were soulmates?
He kissed her repeatedly and without pause until they were both panting for breath. When it was all over, he clung to her as though she would slip through his fingers at the slightest movement. At least she didn't seem to mind it.
"Wow..." Robin gasped, laughing as she hugged Inigo's head against her chest. "That escalated quickly, didn't it?"
"Heh, sorry." He closed his eyes, losing himself in the sound of her frantic heartbeat. "I had no idea that I pushed you onto your back like this. Good thing this couch was here."
"Yeah." She was quiet for a while, and Inigo listened to her breathing until he nearly fell asleep to the rhythm of it. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and tender. "You must have missed me or something."
"Hm?"
"Otherwise you wouldn't have kissed me near to death. I kept getting the feeling that you were desperate to have me; I was an oasis and you were a dying man in the desert."
Inigo propped himself up on his elbows and grinned at her. "Well, I did warn you earlier, remember?" Then his expression sobered. "But I agree with you. Somehow, that felt like the good old days to me."
Robin moved a lock of his hair out of his eyes, her smile warming him to his core. "The good old days, huh? I guess that makes sense. Although you would think the good old days involved more than just kissing..."
Inigo chuckled. "I see. Is that a hint I'm hearing? Should we retire to my apartment?"
One of the waitresses came up behind them with a wooden broom in hand. "Yes, please do. You hooligans have been here for half an hour past our closing time already. Don't make me use this broom on your heads!"