That Girl
by Hidden Tala

Chapter 4: Name

"She's not gonna disappear if you touch her, mate," taunted the man across him. "But she'll bloody melt if you don't quit with the staring."

He swung his head from her to the spiky-haired man before him. "I don't stare."

The spiky-haired man snorted in derision. "Whatever, man. You know you could just walk a few steps, stop at her table, then invite her for coffee or something instead of eating her alive with your eyes. Don't be a caveman, mate. Ask the woman out."

"Don't you think I've tried that already?" he snapped, glaring at his friend.

"And she turned you down?" The spiky-haired man whistled, clearly impressed by her. "I should have seen that."

"She didn't turn me down," he said, completely annoyed for having to explain himself to the grinning ape before him. "I tried to ask her but whenever I get close enough, I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack or my lungs would close up. Or my tongue would forget how to function. It's frustrating, it's… Bloody buggering hell. I'm a ponce."

"That you are, my friend," the spiky-haired man agreed, shaking in laughter. "That you are."

"She's driving me crazy," he complained, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "She won't even let me sleep."

The spiky-haired man narrowed his eyes at him. "Please don't tell me you followed her here. Tell me you went out here on your own and it's mere fate that she's sitting there on the other side of the restaurant in those weird glasses."

He looked like he would deny it but Spiky Hair already snarled at him disgust. "Pathetic, mate. You just stooped to the lowest level: Stalking."

"The lowest level is drugging the girl and taking advantage while she's out cold," he said without humor. "And I'm not stalking her."

"Brother," the spiky-haired man sighed dramatically. "You seriously need to diffuse this sexual frustration and just talk to the damn woman. You need to get laid."

"Shut it," he snarled in anger. "Don't talk about her like that, Yamazaki. I swear I will kill you with this butter knife."

Takashi Yamazaki wanted to laugh at the ridiculous threat but the serious glint in his friend's eyes made him take a mental step back.

"You're in love with her," Yamazaki breathed in disbelief. "You're frigging in love with her and you don't even know her name."

"Have you got a name yet, mate?"

His intense gaze shifted from the woman in the podium to the spiky-haired Yamazaki standing beside him. Yamazaki lifted a black brow at him, amusement clearly etched on his genial face.

"Daidouji," he replied, turning his eyes back to the woman speaker.

Yamazaki whistled softly and crossed his arms. "My, her parents sure aren't very creative people. A face like that should be a Yuri or-"

"It's her surname, you dolt," he mumbled, earning a mighty chuckle from the man beside him. He glowered in return.

"Chill," said the man, smiling at him. "I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that you're the stalking type. Whatever happened to the Hiiragizawa charm?"

"Don't you have anything better to do, Yamazaki?" he spat, glaring at his friend. "And how in god's name did you find me here?"

Yamazaki's grin widened that made him look eerily like the Cheshire cat. "I'm a bit of a stalker myself. Chiharu-chan loved that about me. So, back to the unanswered question: what the hell are you doing? I've watched you undress that woman with your eyes for a week. Why the bleeding hell haven't you asked for her name yet?"

"Perfect timing," he answered grimly, fixing his eyes on the stage. "I'm just waiting for it."

Yamazaki scoffed at him. "That's just the biggest load of bull I've ever heard. There's no perfect timing. Haven't you heard the latest? Good things don't come to those who wait. Good things come to those who want something so bad, they can't sit still."

"I like the old cliché," he replied in a shrug. "It's overused because it's true."

Yamazaki looked like he was going to argue but decided against it. He knew Eriol. And he knew how twisted the man could get just to prove his point.

"What are they discussing about anyway?" Yamazaki asked, changing the topic.

His mouth curved at this. Pride taking over his form. "She's using Feminism on my latest novel, Desire."

Amusement flickered over Yamazaki's face. "A woman after your own heart, mate."

Eriol was less amused but there was still pride in his tone. "She's dissecting every bit of it. You know how that irritates me. When I arrived, she was saying how she thought what an ass I was for not naming the heroine and for making her ugly in the face but utterly desirable in the body. But she backpedaled a little bit, saying that maybe I did it because that woman represented every woman in the world. And now she's butchering my portrayal of the woman. She thinks I'm a sexist because I didn't give the woman a stable job. She's totally missing the point, mate."

"She thought you were an ass?" Yamazaki guffawed.

He gave Yamazaki a bland stare. "Really? After all that, that's all you're gonna say?"

Yamazaki coughed then cleared his throat after all that laughing. "Eriol, my man, do the world a favor. Marry her."

He grimaced and returned his attention to the beautiful woman in front. She took off her weird glasses as she listened to the question from one of the panel. He didn't hear what was said because he was too fascinated at the way she bit her lower lip, as if waiting for a blow. She was nervous, he could tell. Her chin is shaking. A stammer's about to come out. But imagine his surprise when her mouth twitched to form a disbelieving grin.

"After three boring hours of my lecture, you just want my opinion aside from my feministic view of it?" she said in a laugh. "Are you his publisher?"

The audience laughed. And he couldn't help but follow too.

Yamazaki grasped his shoulder. "She's you with female parts, mate. It's terrifying."

"Bug off," he laughed.

He waited with bated breath for her response but it's taking her too long to open her mouth. Then she breathed in and showed some teeth. She smiled. "It was brilliant. And if I may be so bold, I would like to say that it was an honor to read such a fine piece of literature."

He died. And had gone straight to heaven.

"Don't fricken swoon on me, man," Yamazaki complained, kicking him on the side. "You're embarrassing me."

But Eriol was still in a daze. And it looks like he's not coming out of it anytime soon.

"Mate, she's looking this way," hissed Yamazaki.

He suddenly took control of his faculties and followed Yamazaki's gaze. True enough, she was looking their way. But not at him. Or them. She was looking fixedly on the empty seat in front of him and was smiling vaguely at it.

"Is she looking at that chair?" Yamazaki frowned and studied her. "Is she a psychic or something?"

"Hmm," he said absentmindedly, still staring at her.

He felt like she knew that she was being watched because she wouldn't look up. She released her gaze on the empty chair and faced the other direction to welcome the congregating well-wishers. He sighed because he knew that the moment was over.

"What are you doing, mate?" asked the confused Yamazaki. "Why won't you go up there?"

"It's bad timing. She might get embarrassed if she knew it was me. I don't want her to think I'm an egotistic prick."

"But you are an egotistic prick," Yamazaki cheekily argued. "That's why you're here."

He was about to retort a cutting remark but he was stopped by a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. He turned around and found her looking at him with the most bemused expression on her face. She caught his eyes in surprise. He expected her to turn her eyes away. But she held them in place. And before he could do anything, anything at all to keep her eyes locked on his, her mouth turned up and he was only left with a ghost of a smile.

Author's Notes: Hi, I'm back from the dead. I won't make up excuses, I really suck. I'm sorry, guys, but you know, life just got in the way. And throw some sporadic writing sickness and it just ruins everything. I really want to finish this because this story needs to be told. And I know how it's going to end. So please, be patient with me.

Oh, and the novel I said Eriol wrote? It's Desire by Paz Latorena. And it's a short story rather than a novel. Just making that clear. I don't want to look like I stole it.

See you on the next chapter, guys! And don't forget to give me some love! :)