DH AN: First update of the new year! Again it's not the Fitzgerald plunny of doom that rips my heart in two, but… I kinda sorta have been in the zone on this one lately.
AN 2: Minor spoilers for not yet written parts of Not As I Know Him
AN 3: As always thank you to Ataahua (which hopefully I've finally learned to spell right) for the use of her fabulous aviary! So… enjoy Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Arlomhe exhales softly. Mess is an understatement. Her fists clench and she starts to tremble; she has no clue whether it's from fury or fear. Probably both- as much as she hates it, Benu's taunts are far too accurate. She has no urgent desire to face the consequences yet. While she could just leave and make her way back to the car, it's ill-advised. At the very least, he'll be disoriented. At worst... She hastily shakes that train of thought away.
She picks up the Rod, still wrapped in the cloth, from the floor and carefully steps over to slide it into the right pocket of his cloak that's larger for that very purpose. Pacing around, she inhales sharply as she catches sight of a pooling bruise on the outside of the hand- likely from attempting to break the fall. Marble hurts. She immediately grabs that wrist loosely and starts to take a pulse, finding the radial artery with ease and is reassured as she hears his light breaths.
Arlomhe only releases her own breath as she counts 60 beats in the one minute. She places his hand, palm down, on the floor.
She quietly back steps to claim a seat on the cushioned bench. A small smile flits across her face as she spares a glance to the pharaonic busts; those were always her favorite. They were always just so regal. Moreso than that stupid gold plated statue of him- Her breath hitches. That is not among her employer's décor and she fervently hopes it never flits into his head as acceptable.
Three weeks should have been more than enough… He really doesn't look a day over thirty. Her stomach twists in knots. Hallucination or not… it still left her uncomfortable. The indisputable fact that he aged well does not at all help.
She fights away a shudder as the moment in question bursts into the quiet of her head. How before she even had a chance to react, he pulled her in and his lips initially crushed her own. How he rubbed his thumb against her cheek as a calm, gentle gesture.
"Why do you not wonder?" She tenses as she sees the lines of his face in the darkness, for a third time since the actual incident. "And why did you not resist?"
"What good would resisting the inevitable have done?" Arlomhe's voice is quiet, again she doesn't want to hasten the unavoidable consequences. She can't deal with two uncomfortable situations at once. And then there was that match- that still had her feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet. Of all the times she played right into anyone's hands… that was too humiliating.
She inhales sharply through her teeth, recalling that gala. Hanging on his arm was punishment enough… let alone all of the stares. Even though she was completely covered… she couldn't shake the sense of being exposed all night.
And his response of "So let them stare." still makes her want to puke. The dress was lovely… it brought out all of her features. Midnight blue was certainly her color. She feels stomach acid burn as it inches up her esophagus upon sight of her covered arms. She blows air out her nose in frustration- excellent color choice tonight.
Mere mental acknowledgement of the literal mind games leaves her trembling and her fists slowly go white. Before she can wander into that particular aspect, she hears the sound of his boots dragging lightly across the marble floor. She doesn't watch for more than a second before she quietly steps against the bottom of his shoes… it'll at least delay slipping and hopefully allow him to get a footing.
She stands as still as the pillar to her right, holding steady as the bottoms of his shoes push into the toe of her own. After two attempts, he's upright but his shaking knees immediately prompt her to take a position where her left shoulder is bearing some of his weight. Arlomhe slings his right arm over her right shoulder and his fingers immediately grasp the cloth of her shirt, narrowly avoiding pinching her skin.
That name she's rarely if ever heard him give physical voice to tumbles from his lips as a question. And even though it's clearly courtesy of the goose egg on his head, her heart absolutely shatters. Her mother's name bounces through her head with each painful shake of it she offers in denial. "I am not the one you lost." She watches as melancholy slowly settles over him. She takes small steps backward toward the bench and is beyond relieved as he matches them.
She drops to the bench and exhales softly in further relief. A glance at her watch snatches any of it away. 3 AM. Not enough time to both attempt to wipe away fingerprints and get out before the morning shift arrives. Lovely. She starts to tremble and is certain that tears will follow shortly. She registers that his head has leaned onto her right shoulder and exhaled air slides past her ear in the cadence of sleep.
"He clearly trusts you." Arlomhe nearly jumps as Nassr speaks from her left. Not that he was easily noticeable clothed entirely in black.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"You're in a bit of a bind Ms. Sharti, and I like returning favors promptly." He permits a small grin. "Or did yesterday slip your mind?"
"What could you possibly do?"
"Do you know where any of the fingerprints actually are?" His eyes glisten with mirth at her discomfort for only a second before he adds on in a more sobered expression. "And you look like you can barely hold yourself up... even with the assistance he can give you- it was cumbersome to watch."
"Don't you have your armory of a girlfriend to assist somewhere?"
"We took separate cars." Nassr paces to the glass case around the pedestal's box and starts sliding a damp cloth across its top and around both sides of the open front pane before closing and locking it with his gloved hands.
"She'll still be expecting you."
"Oh she's happy to wait."
"That came out flirty."
"You read too much into things." He drops the cloth on the floor right where her hands were and moves it with his boot.
"And water is wet." She snorts, unamused and sticks out her tongue. "You're not the first one to tell me that."
Arlomhe swears she sees the quirk of a brow as Nassr pulls the cloth from the floor. And upon looking at the glass case she realizes something. "You forgot to-"
"I wiped it down right after I... knocked him out..." He frowns slightly. "I'm sorr-"
"Oh for goodness sake don't apologize for doing your job." The words come through her teeth. "He was stupid enough to go alone, and no doubt did something to warrant it."
"He didn't go alone though." Nassr turns to face the now immaculate display absent its prize. "You followed him into what you very well knew was a trap."
"As far as he knows, he wasn't followed… or he knew from the start and plans to stew on it."
"Fortunately that rather unfortunate bump on his head gives you a little more prep time for that no doubt unpleasant conversation, whatever scenario it entails."
"And you'll disappear into the night, leaving me to face hell the morning after. Again." Her lips form a thin line as the near nine year old memory surfaces. "How am I going to explain this?"
"Don't try." Nassr steps back towards the bench to The R.H.'s right and hoists that side onto his own shoulders.
"Lying by omission isn't an option I have. Neither is outright lying for that matter." Arlomhe mimics Nassr's action with The R.H.'s opposite side and rises, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It wasn't an option nine years ago either and I'm still not sure how he didn't question it."
"Extreme luck?"
Arlomhe snorts. "Extreme luck is me holding my tongue for nine years." They keep walking. "Elevator is the best option."
"As if you'd be able to even take the stairs solo a second time."
"Nice to know you have confidence in me." The words slide past her tongue bitterly.
"Someone has to." Nassr carefully readjusts to hail the elevator with a push of a button. "Besides, anyone else would see their confidence spent rather poorly after getting into a mess like this."
"Don't remind me." They step into the elevator and she sets her finger on the button that will take it to the garage floor, but doesn't press it.
Arlomhe sees Nassr raise his brows at her hesitance. "What's really bothering you? You've got whatever it is written all over your face."
"Yup, you're definitely related-" Nassr's reaction is visceral as he drops The R.H. from his shoulders. He goes rigid and starts to shake. "Hey that's no reason to nearly leave him with another goose egg, or further aggravate my shoulder."
Arlomhe watches as his fists constrict to a surely uncomfortable tension. He inhales through his nose and exhales through his mouth once. "Reading faces with as much ease as we can is a curse."
"It has its uses." Arlomhe's face twists sourly. "It's certainly been my saving grace far more times than I care to count."
"What good is it if you can't avoid the unpleasantness you see long before you hear it?" He pushes air through his nose in a cross between frustration and bemusement. "How do you deal with him daily?"
"Very, very carefully." Arlomhe slightly readjusts so that less of The R.H.'s weight is directly on her right shoulder. "Actually, after he and your armory of a girlfriend meet up, I usually avoid him for a week." She stuffs her unoccupied hand into a pocket and shifts her weight. "Please tell me the getting knocked unconscious is an anomaly rather than the norm."
"The ones I've been witness to, this is the only one." Nassr reveals a small grin. "Is it bad that I get extremely gleeful at the fact that he looks like he was forced to swallow several lemons?"
"Only now that you know I have to deal with the aftermath… One word, disaster."
"I'm not responsible for how he deals or doesn't deal with the aftermath of tripping over his own pride." Nassr shrugs the weight back onto his shoulders. "One of these days, it's going to cost him a heck of a lot more than he anticipates."
"Arrogance more so than pride." She shakes her head lightly as she presses the button. "Having your strategies countered with an unnervingly low margin of error is very disheartening."
"Him holding that over you for who knows how many years can't be terribly good either."
"He doesn't. Not for years." The elevator door opens and they pace out into the garage. "Happens often enough that it may as well be."
"If it's not over that then why do you look like somebody put salt in your coffee?"
"Take your pick of any of the past three days' events."
"Hopefully today will be salvageable for both of us…"
"But you were successful!"
"Not until that negotiation actually goes through." Nassr's expression sours as if on cue the phone rings. "It's a text, I can ignore it."
"We both know that's not a good idea. Your partner doesn't exactly like being ignored. Does she descend from Helen of Troy?" The question tumbles from Arlomhe's lips without preamble.
"Does he descend from Narcissus?" Nassr retorts with a small inclination of his head to the unconscious man on their shoulders.
"Might as well." She pushes the phrase past her teeth with a dry laugh.
"You have your answer." Arlomhe blames the harsh fluorescent light rather than think he's actually blushing. "She is quite pleasing to the eye."
"Major crush?" She immediately holds her tongue after. That's a bit of a low blow.
"Crush my heart to pieces if she ever found out." He reads the text and quickens the pace to the car.
"Vocal warning would be appreciated." She narrowly avoids skidding into the car door.
"Get him situated inside the car!" Noting the tonal change from nonchalance to something unmistakably laced with fear, Arlomhe complies without argument. She barely hears the phone start ringing with a different ringtone as he hastily pushes the door shut - most of the sound is then drowned out by the rather luxurious near soundproof cabin.
Her view, however is unimpaired and as soon as she belts her employer into the driver-side back seat, she's watching out the window. Nassr's back is to her and it looks like it takes every ounce of self-control he has to not crush the phone in his hand. She counts two minutes before he snaps the flip-phone shut and then pulverizes it with his boot. His entire body is taut as he picks up the pieces and stuffs them into his coat pocket.
She can't hear his footsteps, but the posture alone gives the impression of harbingers of dread as he paces around to the driver's seat of the car. He opens the door, slides into the seat and she flinches as he pulls the door shut with far more force than necessary. "Keys." The demand is short, clipped and she does a double take on the clarity of Nassr's eyes- the similarity is unnerving. "The keys. Ms. Sharti." She freezes as the specific separation of the words strikes like punishing blows.
Only when she registers the rolling tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel does she dig into the console for the valet key. Arlomhe passes it to him without a word.
The taps repeat. "Your seatbelt." Again it's short but he looks a small bit more relaxed as she affixes the safety device.
"Are you ok?"
"Do I look ok?" The words slice in a whisper past his teeth and she almost doesn't catch the dilation of his pupils as his eyes narrow.
"Whatever angers you, controls you." The words slide sourly past her teeth- she hates that phrase, and doesn't care to use it. "You shouldn't give anyone that satisfaction."
"It's justified." Nassr's words are punctuated with emotion as he starts the car. She's silent as he drives out of the garage and into the predawn night to a destination only he knows.
It's all too familiar… far too familiar… treading lightly is all she can do. The similarities are terrifying… She looks out the window at the lights going by. For the first time in hours, she relaxes.
It lasts a lovely minute until Nassr jerks to a stop in response to a quickly changing traffic signal. She feels two distinct thumps from the trunk, as whatever was in it is hurled at the backseats.
"Pull over at your earliest opportunity." The request tumbles out far more demanding than she intended; she adds a very quiet "Please."
Nassr nods and after driving through two intersections, pulls to the side of the road. He takes the key from the ignition and steps around the front of the vehicle and stops at the back passenger side door. He watches her unbuckle the seatbelt and he opens the door for her and then steps aside.
He watches as Arlomhe paces toward the trunk, each step purposeful. He watches her quietly tremble as she reaches it. "Pop the trunk." Her request is the only thing in that moment that is anywhere near steady. She's shaking unmistakably with fear.
"I'm sorry."
"Your emotions were warranted, so don't apologize just pop the trunk." He watches Arlomhe's fists constrict and immediately decides it's in his best interest to comply. Jogging to the driver's side door, he pops the trunk and quietly steps backward to see what's so interesting.
She's still as a statue, staring at the two duffle bags in the trunk, a black one and a smaller gray one.
"Go-bags." Nassr murmurs and notes that the pluralization leaves Arlomhe white as a sheet. "I assume one is yours." She inhales and pushes a shaking hand to the gray one to expose the underside of one of the straps, revealing ARS embroidered in purple thread. "There's no chance you forgot to remove it?"
"Absolutely none." Her voice is hushed and she swallows. "Because I put it right where it always goes when unneeded. The right corner closest to my room door." She lifts the bag with enough effort to reveal that it has something in it before setting it back into the trunk. "And it's always empty when not in use and in its proper place." The trembling returns and she starts wringing her hands. "He knew."
"Or, he anticipated."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"I'm merely bringing other options to light." He fights a smile, but only because that won't help things either. He pushes down the trunk softly, but doesn't shut it completely. He caught sight of something else in the trunk that's piqued his interest. A shoebox. "Are you ok?"
"I snuck into the backseat of a car, waited for an hour before going in to check on him and found myself face to face with your armory of a girlfriend.-"
"She's not my girlfriend." Nassr interjects.
"You shook your head 'no' when I presented her the offer- very fervently I might add." She flashes a snarky grin. "But if you say there's no canoodling between you two, then I won't use the term anymore."
"Thank you kindly." Nassr's words are tart. "Anyway I interrupted… please continue."
The grin vanishes and the trepidation returns "Then, I get confused for my mother because of the blow to his head that caused a goose-egg." She presses a finger into Nassr's shirt. "And exactly why you're helping me still leaves me with so many questions." She steps back, towards a railing and watches as the sun kisses the horizon as it starts its ascent.
She shakes, relying on the railing for support. "And now, I find out that my go-bag is in this car- which implies things that absolutely scare me- and you have the balls to ask if I'm ok?!"
Nassr steps beside her and leans on the railing to her right. "That was in poor taste."
"I want you gone before he wakes up."
"Oh am I a flag again?"
"You're a detriment to my mental health." She exhales through her nose in almost a laughing manner that implies she's not entirely serious. Any facetiousness is gone soon after. "Waltzing into my life after nine years and inserting yourself to be the rescuer I don't entirely need isn't as appreciated as you would like." She twists a few strands of her hair around a finger. "This instance however, is appreciated given the circumstances." She exhales loosely. "That flag metaphor does still hold, however."
"Noted." Nassr purses his lips. "He treats you well?" It's a quiet question and barely given voice.
"As well as he can." She eyes the trunk wearily. "He packed my go-bag without prompting. It's another part of the reason that terrifies me. He clearly cares. His methods of showing it aren't exactly obvious." Nassr watches as she barely fights a yawn.
"You're tired." Nassr murmurs, setting a hand on her left shoulder. "Let me do one last thing for you today." He quietly slides his hand into his pocket, pulling out a hotel card key. He presses it into her hands. "Paid for two nights, only needed one. I'd hate for it to go to waste."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because you look absolutely pathetic and far worse than I saw you two days ago." He back steps to the car. "Plus, I'm responsible for your being stuck under Mr. Miserable for however long it's been."
"Let me stop you right there." She spins to face him. "Your responsibility ended the moment you up and left." She doesn't move towards the car. "Responsibility for anything after falls on me." She stuffs her hands into her pockets, next words somewhat bitter. "I learned that pretty quickly." He steps towards her, warily eying the back seat's lone occupant and as he averts his gaze forward, he sees that her eyes are along the same viewing path. He watches as her face falls into a clear look of concern.
"You reciprocate that care." Nassr observes softly.
"He scares the hell out of me. He's demanding, unyielding, and if you're the unfortunate idiot who crosses him-" Nassr doesn't miss the dread that shudders up her spine. "There's not even time to pick a god and pray."
"Is there one that you're considering?" His lip inches up on the right side just barely.
"If you don't wipe that making of a smirk off your face, you'll regret it!"
"I'd love to see you try." Nassr laughs through his teeth. "You anger just like him. Like father like daughter."
"So do you." She steps back to the car, perhaps already regretting this train of thought. "Like father like son." She watches again as that visceral rigidity reappears. "You tremble, you break, you slam, and then you strangle the steering wheel."
"I am nothing like him." In that moment, Arlomhe knows not to press further; calm fury is the best unspoken warning; perhaps the only one she actually heeds. And Nassr's patience is not something she can afford to test. Years change people… one wrong move and he'll reach his breaking point, and that's not something she gets joy from. Inviting his ire isn't exactly well-advised at this point either.
"The promise of a shower and a warm bed make quite good motivators." His voice breaks her focus. "Now let's see that you get them, shall we?"
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" His eyes glance over to the still unconscious man in the back seat. "We both know I just tried to feed you an emotionally charged lie."
"I pushed you to it." She rubs her hands along her arms in a vain attempt for warmth. "If you believe it, is it really a lie?"
"It's not factually accurate, so yes- it's still a lie."
"You're not him." Her voice shakes. "You do know that, right?"
"You're not either." They pace back toward the car in near synch. "We both know that neither of us is a complete reflection of him…"His brows furrow. "It shouldn't absolutely terrify us when those moments present themselves." He turns towards the sun, bathing Arlomhe in his shadow. "Why does it frighten us so?"
"Because you remember. And I know." She paces slowly back to the rear passenger door. "You remember and vow that's someone you will never be." Nassr doesn't miss that Arlomhe's visual focus is squarely on her employer. ""I know that I can either follow him down his path exactly, or perhaps choose my own way to the same end." Her lips form a firm line. "Every time I open my mouth and he comes out, it makes me feel forever resigned to that first option."
"Have you ever considered choosing a different path entirely?"
"Seems to have worked spectacularly with you." Sarcasm drips from her words as she smiles slightly and shakes her head. "I don't know if your girlfriend is really smart, or if I was just exceptionally foolish."
"She's not my-"
"Not your girlfriend…" She rolls her eyes. "Regardless, you're extremely lucky she hasn't connected you to him yet."
"And she won't."
"Only because he kept his face concealed while conscious and you weren't in the same room . I mean, have you looked in a mirror in the last nine years? And I mean really looked." She crosses her arms. "Pretty sure if you didn't work out, you'd be on the lanky side."
"He's thin as a rail. Does he run entirely on spite?"
"Thirty-percent." Arlomhe puts a hand to her chin. "Seems like about fifty-percent black coffee, fifteen-percent making people squirm and about five-percent physical sustenance offered by food and sleep."
"And just where in those percentages is concern for you?"
"It's nestled somewhere in that 'making people squirm' category. Again, he has the weirdest ways to show it." He hears the distinct undertones of relief as she exhales. "Though he has upped his sleep recently- because he's getting over something-"
"So that's why he didn't suspect anything amiss- or check for it…."
"He failed to consider the factors and possibilities." Nassr notes the tonal shift almost immediately, and if he's honest- it scares him. It's however many years she's spent under the hood surfacing; the huntress. "Not sure if that was courtesy of his still recovering or his own natural hubris." Arlomhe clenches her fists and slowly, steadily exhales. And with that exhale returns the concerned, not so little, girl. "Pretty sure after this he'll go back to his sparse sleep schedule with ease."
"Have you tried asking him to get more sleep?"
"He's harder headed than you are, Mr. Semi-needed Rescuer."
Nassr makes a face. "That bad, huh?"
"That bad."
"Have you tried asking?"
"Out of the question." He watches her tremble and he opens his mouth to speak, but Arlomhe regains just enough composure to place a parting shot square where it hurts. "But what would you know?! You ran!" Nassr steps carefully around to the driver's side but remains near the trunk, somewhat crestfallen as Arlomhe takes that pent up emotion and hurls it at him like darts for a bullseye. "You wouldn't know of the hours I've spent doing as asked- as ordered- without so much as a thought of protest."
She trembles and faces the sun. "You wouldn't know how many times I've cared too much… that I've proven I have no self-preservation whatsoever."
He hears a faint sob wrack her frame, sliding more from her nose than her mouth. "You wouldn't know that I wrote you off as dead after two years, and that in that same year…I found myself staring The R.H. in the face, terrified as the only thing I could even see was satisfaction in his eyes that he had me right where he wanted."
She turns back to face the car and wraps her fingers around the door. "I don't need your pity." He watches her gaze drift down to her fingers. "I don't need rescuing." Her free hand closes into a fist. "And after you complete this favor of yours, I don't need to see you unless it's business related, got it?" Her hand slides from the door and curls into a fist.
"I can't agree to that."
"And I can't keep running into you like this!" Arlomhe just barely manages to miss slamming her fist into the car door. "It put me in a very dangerous position." She trembles in absolute fear- she's sweating, and the words that tumble out are anything but steady. "If I attempt to lie… it will not go over well." Nassr steps around the car as the trembling increases to full-blown shaking. "But if I tell the truth I-" She's then smothered lightly in a solid wall of muscle.
"It'll be ok." Nassr lightly squeezes and is relieved as he feels her still and slow. The relief is snatched away when she starts to softly cry, which lightly shakes her frame. "It'll be ok." He back steps towards the front passenger seat. "But let me get you into the car before you soak my shirt." He opens the door and doesn't even wait for the question. "Better to regain some composure where he can't-"
"You're crying Dear One…"
She throws a glance at the back seat, and he feels her briefly tense. "Oh thank goodness, he's just sleep-talking." The phrase is hushed.
"He sleep-talks?!" Nassr's incredulous tone destroys any of Arlomhe's remaining trepidation as he laughs lightly through his nose. "And I thought your sleep-giggling was weird."
"If you don't hurry up and get me to that hotel, I'll be sleep-drooling all over you." She plops down in the front seat and affixes the seatbelt after missing the receptacle twice.
"As you wish." He shuts the door and paces around the back of the car.
Arlomhe rolls her eyes and mutters "Related." under her breath once the door is shut.
He lingers at the trunk and opens it to again look at that shoebox. It seems somewhat out of place until he recalls the less than ideal house shoes Arlomhe is wearing. He's amazed she didn't slip on that marble floor. As he shuts the trunk, Nassr silently hopes that if he ever becomes that blatantly subtle, somebody would smack some sense into him before it became a habit.
When Nassr finally arrives to the driver's side, he finds Arlomhe snoozing in the front seat. He tsks before opening the car door. Far far too trusting. He starts the car and drives for about ten minutes before pulling in to a nice two-story hotel. He taps Arlomhe on the shoulder and stifles a laugh when she jumps.
"Would it kill you to announce yourself a little?" She rubs her eyes and sounds groggy.
"I need to borrow your phone."
"Why?"
"Because I smushed mine underfoot an hour and a half ago."
She suddenly becomes defensive, perking up a bit. "Which is why I don't really want to let you anywhere near mine, that's issued, and is my third in as many months."
"If you don't let me use it, I wake him up and leave you to try explaining well before you're ready." As he watches her pale, he smirks. "I assume he's still pretty unpleasant when not woken of his own choice." He leans over the parking brake console. "And that's without your little shall we say failure thrown into the mix."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me, Ms. Sharti." In response, Arlomhe gets out of the car. As he's about to lay on the horn, he hears quiet taps on his window. He opens the car door and as he stands, notices for the first time that he almost towers over her.
"Here." The single word bears no defeat as she offers him the device.
In turn, he pulls the hotel key card from his pocket and offers it to her. "I knew you'd see it my way."
She rolls her eyes. "Pop the trunk." He does so and then shuts the door. He watches as she ducks into the trunk, and pulls out the go-bags. "Which room?"
"110"
"Oh good ground floor."
"We had a bit of stuff to carry. Wouldn't have done well to exhaust ourselves lugging it up a stairway."
"Just call your girlfriend."
"She's not my-"
"I don't care!" She slings both bags on her left shoulder with the keycard in a death grip in her right hand. As soon as the door beeps to acknowledge the card swipe, she barges in and slams the door shut so roughly that she wouldn't be surprised if one of the '1' s clattered onto the concrete. But as she stuffs the keycard back into her pocket, she exhales softly and dread takes the place of ire as she sets her own go-bag on the bed closest to the bathroom. She back-steps and drags her employer's go-bag to the foot of the bed closest to the door. Arlomhe continues her backward pace until her back meets the door and she grips her own arms as she slides slowly down to the floor. How am I going to get myself out of this mes-?
However, her self-pity grinds to a screeching halt at what she hears through the door.
"I'm sorry for interrupting your personal time. I just thought you'd like an update." A pause that lasts about six seconds follows and then "Because I smashed my phone." A half-second "Yes, again." Another two seconds. "Never mind whose phone I'm using." She hears what she thinks is a frustrated exhale. "What do you mean that's the fourth one in two months? I thought we agreed that the second one didn't count because the washing machine ruined that one, not me."
Good to know phone destruction runs in the family… Arlomhe barely holds back a smirk.
"I'm back at the hotel." Arlomhe doesn't even need to hear the pending why . "Because I left something behind." She hears him wrinkle a piece of paper from his pocket. "I'm still looking for it."
There's no way she'll buy tha-
"What is it, you ask?" His tone makes Arlomhe want to face-palm because she knows what's coming. That feeling isn't proved wrong. "I'm looking for my heart have you seen it somewhere?"
If she's not your girlfriend, then WHY are you using a schmaltzy, predictable pick-up li-
Nassr laughs and then "Wise men say only fools rush in … But I can't help falling in love with y-"
She fights the urge to burst out laughing as soon as that filters through the door. She's up and finds a similar spot a little closer to the bathroom, leaning against the wall rather than sliding to the floor. It's cute but… pretty sure there's no way he's got that walking armory wrapped around his finger. She snorts as she idly examines her fingernails "I would never have pegged Benu as one to like Elvis Presley…" Her face feels flushed from second-hand embarrassment.
Arlomhe exhales through her teeth, fighting off exhaustion. She paces slowly towards the small end table where a complimentary hotel notepad and pen lay on near a lamp. She hastily scribbles I'm tired, still need to get him inside and really do need my phone back so hurry up! Ripping the paper from the pad, she drags her feet over to the door and after checking the keycard is in her pocket, opens and shuts the door quietly. He's right by the window and she's way too tired to try to comprehend what exactly he's saying.
But just as she reaches out to yank on his shirt, his fist immediately jams against his side and that runs enough adrenaline through her to push her back into a more wakened state.
"People change for better or worse. Why are you asking me that question again?" He heaves a sigh and his shoulders drop. "She's unpolished, inefficient and has a spine of jelly. That girl completely lost any and all courage she had. It was quite the sight to see." Fear and rage shoot up her spine in succession. The paper falls from her fingers.
Arlomhe stalks off to the car before she does something she'll regret. Like punching Nassr in the jaw, hard. Something like that would just prove him right. She hears the air rush from her nose and her ire's edge goes with it.
Footsteps sound across the pavement and she starts to tremble. "That was stupid of you to do."
"I didn't show my hand on purpose!" She steps to the right. "I've spent years in an environment with him most prominent among a handful- a small handful- of constants. The vernacular clue just kind of slipped out."
"I heard it was written all over your face too."
"Reason one-hundred why I'm still baffled he didn't pursue anything else regarding your whereabouts nine years ago."
"It always seems to return to that."
"Because you're just waltzing back into my life like it's ok and nothing's wrong."
"I'm not the one who sent you for that exchange."
"Look at him and tell me that I made the wrong decision."
"Pretty sure it was a ballsy request regardless."
"I've dealt with The R.H. for years." She finally faces Nassr. "I know my limits and rarely do I even entertain the idea of testing them."
"What are you going to do? Because this wasn't simply testing them, you've effectively put yourself into quite beyond acceptable!"
"I don't know… but I do know that it isn't exactly your problem to fix."
"You'll need this." He pulls the manila negotiation envelope from his jacket's inner pocket. He presents it to her. "As for how to avoid getting an 'absolutely not' when you reveal you're the one Lady Benu wants to negotiate with- both because it's a bit of a stab to his pride and because I doubt he'd put you in front of that long knife if he had a choice- after all that whole 'father keeping their child from harm thing-, might I suggest groveling and perhaps a little spinning it in his favor?"
'Noted." Arlomhe winces as her shoulder again makes itself known.
"And here's your phone back, all in one piece." She takes the device and stuffs it into her pocket. "Now then," At this, Nassr turns to face the back driver's side door. And without another word, Arlomhe pulls open the door, leaning in to unbuckle the seatbelt, and then moves to assume support on the left side.
"No need Ms. Sharti." Nassr stops beside her
"A fireman's carry might be a little easier on you. But first, let me prevent a fabric tear." She unclasps three of the six hooks that hold the cloak closed. "He wore his really nice one…" Nassr watches as she rolls her eyes. "Okay, go ahead."
Nassr hoists her employer onto his shoulders and Arlomhe feels her jaw drop to the floor. If she wasn't related to him… She shakes that thought away and is at the door with keycard in hand. Sliding it again through the slot, she opens the door and stands by the closest bed. Nassr carefully drops the weight from his shoulder and then helps Arlomhe position The R.H. on his side.
"Good luck." Nassr eyes her employer
"You too." She looks at the envelope clasped tightly in her own hands. Nassr nods silently and then half a minute later is gone and has shut the door behind him.
She climbs into the other bed and sleep quickly claims her.
DH: Thank you for reading and please review!
