Lunch came very quickly because Elentir enjoyed working on the building's computers. People began shuffling past his door, laughing and chatting about sports and movies, all carrying small brown bags and mugs. Confused, Elentir stood and peeked out of his cracked doorway. Even Ms. Kotter was about to go. "Oh, hello, Mr. Starwatcher," she said as soon as she saw him watching.
"Elentir, please," he corrected. She smiled and blushed a bit.
"Elentir, it's time for lunch, 12:00 o'clock. You have a whole hour, but if you come back early Mr. Wilson will probably let you leave a bit earlier." Elentir blinked, glancing downward. "Are…you all right?" He glanced back to her worried expression.
"Yes, I just need to finish something before I go…" He slowly turned back to his waiting desk.
"Elentir?" He paused. "A lot of us on the main floor go to the bakery down the street." He nodded, giving a quick grin.
He wandered into the small restaurant, seeing that it wasn't crowded and he could find a table to himself. One glance at the menu made his milky features turn even more pale, and he decided he would finish the bread he had saved from last week. Also, Ms. Kotter was no where to be found. He wouldn't want to intrude on her lunch, anyway. Elentir sat down in the corner by the window, and looking out at the streets and the bit of the bay he could see. He had kept the letter from his dear friend back home in his pocket. As his heart grew low he pulled it out and looked over the long, gracefully drawn characters on the page. Although to any other eyes, it would look like mere scratches of nonsense, Elentir could see the excitement and good intentions Legolas had for him. He was so intensely concerned with the message that he didn't notice a young woman carefully slide into the seat across from him. Surprised, he glanced up.
"Hi. I hope you don't mind, but you seemed so alone." He smiled; she meant no harm. She looked young and quiet, with cherry-chestnut locks and green eyes that competed with Elentir's own misty sapphires. "I noticed you just started work at the building. My name's Anne…I work in marketing."
"Elentir," he introduced. "Network specialist."
"Elentir?" she repeated, sipping coffee. "That's so pretty."
"Thank you," he blushed slightly.
"Where's it from?" He paused.
"Overseas. I just moved from, well, it's my first time in the city." Anne nodded, grinning a bit again.
"Me too. My parents said I wouldn't be able to survive, but I'm proudly still alive after a whole month." Elentir's eyes widened.
"My father told me I would hate the city…" His voice trailed. "I think I'm starting to believe him."
"Now, don't say that. Parents love for you to come crawling back to them." Elentir chuckled. "All you need is a good place, a good job, and some good friends. You'll fit in soon enough. Here, try some of this. It's what kept me here for the first week." Elentir hesitated at the small roll she offered. Legolas had warned him about the food. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, so he smiled meekly and took a bite. It was delicious!
"This is fantastic!" he gasped. Anne laughed and nodded, pulling a piece for herself. "Almost as good as home!"
"You sure are homesick," Anne giggled. "Where did you say you were from?"
"I don't think you would know it," he nervously replied. She shrugged slightly and placed the rest of the roll in front of him. She noticed the letter and strained to see it.
"Oh…" she grimly replied when she saw the foreign marks. "Elentir, it's OK." He frantically glanced to the letter, then to her fallen face.
"What?"
"It's OK if you're from…from places that are not quite welcome here in such rough times." Elentir's visage twisted in a confused scowl.
"I'm sorry, Anne, I don't understand." He followed her gaze to the letter and quickly snatched it into his grasp. "It's not what you think."
"You know, you don't look very Middle-Eastern." Elentir sighed, his eyes rolling a bit at the complete blindness of these people.
"I'm not from the Middle-East, this is not Arabic."
"Elentir," she comforted. "There's no need to lie!" He could see he was getting no where. He stood, carefully hiding the letter and forcing a brief smile.
"It was nice speaking with you Anne. I hope I'll see you tomorrow." She nodded, smiling again, but still bewildered. He shook his head slightly as soon as he turned from her. This race was hopeless.
"He's handsome," she muttered. "Even if he's obviously Pakistani."