After leaving the pastry and the coffee, and then not so subtly hiding around the corner trying to steal a glance of him accepting her offering and then giving up after ten finger numbing minutes, Belle left for her office quite content with her budding friendship.
Waving good morning to the security guard at the gate, she wondered, not for the first time, if what she was doing was smart. This man, this dealer, if she was being honest with herself was just another of Glasgow's "seedy"; the kind her posh London friends had warned her about before she'd made the move North.
"Stay away from anyone even vaguely dirty. The Scots are a dirty bunch so it might be tough." They'd laughed, oblivious to their own idiocy, or Belle's growing discomfort, intent on having a pint and a laugh at the wee Aussie transplant who was relocating again to try and find...well, something.
Nosty probably wasn't the best choice of man to get involved with, she shook her head, or even be around, but her heart of hearts told her he needed someone.
Three days later and Belle knew they'd finally settled on some sort of 'routine'. If it was actively raining when she made her early morning coffee run, she'd choose a chocolate scone for Nosty and something with lemon in it for herself. She'd bought Nosty the same blueberry muffin she'd offered him before until he'd finally choked out that he couldn't stand the taste and prefered something richer.
Three tries, and two rejected treats later, she'd landed on the flaky chocolate scone and had beamed like the sun when he'd mumbled it was perfect.
If it wasn't actively raining, or if she'd hit the snooze button a few too many times, she'd merely grab the coffees before trotting off to locate Nosty to deliver his beverage before darting off to work. If she was lucky, and on time, she could stand and begin her caffeination ritual while attempting to weasel out conversation from Nosty.
Most mornings, he was taciturn. Simply choosing to eye her and sip lightly. Sometimes she could get him to grunt single words in response to her litany of questions. Belle was taking what she could get.
This morning, a Thursday, was as overcast as always, but the rain hadn't actually made an appearance just yet. Coffee only then.
She'd have to hurry if she wanted to catch Nosty before he retreated deeper into the maze of buildings that made up the business district of downtown Glasgow. If he was in an agreeable mood, he'd wait for her at the mouth of the alleyway closest to the coffee cart. If he wasn't, Belle would have to wander until she stumbled upon him.
The mouth of their 'regular alleyway' was almost directly in front of her toes when she heard it; a laugh. A male laugh, deep and sensuous. A laugh that she might have thought belonged to Nosty if she'd ever seen him smile in the days that she'd been trying to get to know him.
Treading carefully into the darkened strip, she heard the sound again, whomever it belonged to was close. A flicker of fear shuddered through her body. Perhaps she'd just have to chalk today up to "not feeling well" and try again tomorrow.
She glanced down at the twin coffees in her mitten covered fingers. No. Nosty might only be getting this little bit of sustenance from her. If she was going to chicken out, that would hurt him. She couldn't hurt him.
Stepping forward into the shadows, she tried to figure out where the sound was coming from, at the least. If she could place it, she could figure out if it was a threat or not.
She was daft, his wee bird.
Fucking bloody daft.
Nosty wasn't blind and he definitely wasn't fucking stupid. His bird was fluttering in the wrong place this morning.
His laugh rang out against the damp buildings, bouncing from stone to stone.
His fucking laugh.
It was only because his mind was spitting out thoughts faster than he could fucking process them.
He knew. He knew he should've left well enough alone this morning. Taking the last of a shipment for his own personal use was a habit that had gotten more dealers killed then pleasured.
Nosty wasn't fucking stupid. He knew. He knew.
He knew he couldn't get the picture of her damned blue eyes out of his head. Her skin was fucking cream. Smooth as the first press of the plunger.
He'd woken up too many mornings since she'd forced herself into his fucking pitiful excuse of an existence almost excited to see her again. Him. Fucking excited about seeing a bird. He could see any bird he wanted with a couple quick questions posed to the right people and here he was day after day, fucking whipped.
This morning, though. This fucking morning had been too cold, last night hadn't been satisfying enough and the small packet he'd been keeping hidden in one of his chest bandages had seemed the most important thing in the world.
It should've been easy to give the bird the slip.
He could disappear from her life within the day. Slip off into another part of Glasgow. Assign another one of his fucking lads to cover this part of downtown and he'd never see those fucking blue eyes again.
He didn't even know her name.
"Nosty?"
Retreating back into the shadows, he bit back a groan. Her voice, when his mind was already racing around itself in circles was like another needle in his arm-lighting in his veins.
He twitched under his kilt. Half his mind cawed at him to take himself in hand. Take her. She had to be close enough to him now. She'd follow the sound of his voice almost anywhere, Nosty had learned.
The other half of his mind told him to keep his fucking knob in his pants and walk away before he ripped the wings off this bird or worse.
"Nosty?" Shite, she sounded scared. She should be scared. This wasn't the type of world a bird like her should use to test her wings.
"Nosty." Her voice was softer. "I know you can probably hear me. I'm not going to come in after you, I'm just going to wait here for a couple minutes. I have coffee."
A low growl escaped his lips as he involuntarily crept forward. Everything surrounding this bird was automatic. He couldn't stop himself from moving forward anymore than he could stop himself from just one more shot. One more high.
He didn't even know her name. She'd been bird in his head since he laid eyes on her and as much as she talked, she'd never bothered to refer to herself.
Creeping forward, Nosty found where the bird had perched herself. She'd found herself some light filtering through the buildings; fighting against the heavy clouds.
"There ya are." His voice reminded him of watching a bottle shatter against bricks.
She turned so fast coffee spilled onto her mittens. "Nosty. There you are." That fucking smile. "I thought you were gone."
"Aye." He mumbled softly, "I should be."
One covered hand reached out the cup he knew to be his. Nosty ignored it, moving past her arms to surround her from behind.
"I should be gone and ye shouldnae have come here in the first place."
Those blue eyes followed him around, her body stayed frozen. Coffee was sloshing out of both cups, dotting her hands with soft brown.
"Ye shouldnae seek me out, bird." His voice was soft, dangerously soft. He knew the voices in his head, the ones that hadn't stopped yelling to take himself in hand, were telling him to just push her up against the wall and take what he needed and then push her back into the light.
"What's yer name, bird?" He darted a hand out, brushing over her shoulder before retreating into himself.
"Nosty…" her voice was hushed, like she was going to tell him a secret. "What have you done?"
His laugh rang out again, more grotesque in the small space between them. "Ye knew, bird. Ye knew what I am."
Her eyes. Not filled with pity, but something else. Something Nosty's brain couldn't place, couldn't process. "It's okay, Nosty. It's going to be okay."
"That's rich, lass. Comin from ye." His fingers drummed against the concrete behind him. He couldn't force himself to sit still much longer.
She set the coffee down by her feet, stepping closer to him. One tiny hand reached out and covered his arm before he could take his next breath.
She was fucking touching him.
"My name is Belle." She whispered.
Wrenching his arm out of her grasp, he darted down the alleyway, not bothering to notice he'd kicked the coffee as he'd left.
