The minute the door shut, Skarr regretted his decision. For a second he stood at his door, staring at his hand that had shut it so determinedly moments earlier. He had only ever invited one other person into his house.
The boy.
He looked over his shoulder at the retreating backside of the woman he had just brought through his door. His gaze flicked over the pear-shaped form. She was decidedly not a boy. Therefore was he not already doing better than before? His hand slid away from the door as he watched her venture further down his corridor.
"Already know where you're going, then?" She turned to look at him. That frustrated blush of hers still splashed across her cheeks… it accentuated her frown so nicely. Such a nettled little thing.
"I assumed you would be right behind me, as it is your house, after all," she miffed. He followed her down the hall, his long stride easily catching up to her short, high-heeled steps.
"You shouldn't assume," he said simply, "Follow me, if you please." Inwardly, his mind churned uncomfortably. What now? He couldn't ask her to leave, which was something he was quite used to. There were steps to take. Propriety to consider. What next? He offers her something. There we go, that's a safe step.
"Can I get you anything?" Juliet made a soft sound of disbelief and humor, her eyes scanning the walls of the corridor.
"Besides your pleasant company and good humor? No, thank you." He frowned quickly, bristling slightly. A comeback immediately rose in his throat, and died a second later.
"You have no pictures on your walls," the woman noted. He paused, considering her observation. It was true. His walls, at least those outside his private study, were bare. In fact, his main decorations were house plants, of which there were none in the entryway.
"…I don't take pictures," he replied shortly, leading her through the doorway of his living room. Juliet looked at him in mild surprise.
"Why ever not?" He frowned at her and motioned to his sofa.
"It never appealed to me. Please, have a seat." Juliet looked at him a bit longer, then complied, holding her purse in her lap. Skarr was once again at a loss. Alright, she refused the first offer. Perhaps he should offer again.
"…Are you certain I can't get you anything?" Juliet appeared to consider it, scrutinizing his face as she did.
"What? Do you expect a trick?" He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her, turning his head slightly to fix her in his one good eye. If she wanted to stare, he'd soon cure her of that. Juliet shook her head slightly, evidently not all that bothered by his glare.
"No. I'm certain that if you tricked me or at the very least spit in my drink, I would notice."
"Would you," he droned.
"Yes. Venom floats in water." He narrowed his eyes slightly at the smug little smirk on her smug little face.
"…water, then."
"Oh, yes, please," Juliet chimed cheerfully. He turned on his heel and left to fetch the water. There. He had a task now. Something to occupy him for a few seconds. He took a glass out of the cupboard and went to fill it at the sink. What was she playing at? She had to be after something. Nobody just… walks into his house without a goal. Billy, Ernest… even Hector had a goal in mind when their foot (or paw) crossed the threshold. As the water filled the glass, he turned the last few minutes over in his head. All they had done was banter, really. Surprisingly, no threats had been made from either contributor. And now, here she was, this strange little woman, sitting in his house waiting for a glass of water. And she had sent him to fetch it with another snide remark. Something between wit and blatant sarcasm. He had to think. She shouldn't speak to him like that. He should be angry. After all, he'd been much angrier for much less in his day. Then again, he could very easily turn the tables on her.
This thought intrigued him. He had already noticed how little incentive she needed to become a bothered, red-faced little mess. If he could get that to happen again, it would pull the rug out from under her tiny feet and maybe then he wouldn't feel quite so bothered by all this… this back-and-forth. He turned back for the living room, keeping his eye fixed on the glass. Oh, he could certainly do that… Why, it's just like combat. He needed only to find her weak points. He had already taken into account one of them: poor manners.
He should spill the water on her.
No, don't do that. We're looking for poor manners, not clumsy mistakes. She was more likely to pity him than be annoyed.
Juliet looked up when he reentered the living room, completely unaware of the intense reasoning he had just done in the kitchen, and took the glass from his outstretched hand.
"Thank you," she said, taking a small sip. There was a beat of silence. That beat grew into an increasingly awkward stretch, only eased when Juliet, after looking around aimlessly, offered the beginning of a potential conversation.
"You have a lovely home," she began, lightly tapping her fingernails on the side of the glass. Skarr blinked, genuinely caught off-guard. He cast a quick glance around the room to be sure she was talking about this particular home, perhaps to discover precisely what it was she found so lovely about it. Skarr personally felt his home was nice, and felt inclined to agree with the woman. He was meticulous about the placement and coordination of all his furniture, all the decorations. Still, he had never heard anyone say such a thing before. If they had, they had certainly never said it to his face.
"…thank you," was all he could offer in response. Juliet motioned to the armchair near the sofa.
"…would you… sit and join me, please?" He sank into the chair a bit quicker than he had intended, glancing around once more. Juliet took another small sip from her glass and tilted her head at him.
"Are you alright?" she asked. Skarr looked at her, a curious expression on his face.
"Do you mean it?" The Englishwoman tilted her head the other way, as if she hadn't heard correctly.
"Hm? Mean what?"
"Do you mean what you said? About my house, that is." Juliet paused, and then nodded once.
"Yes, it is rather nice. Very cozy… was it your wife who decorated it?"
"I'm not married."
The answer was quick and crisp, and Juliet leaned back slightly from its abruptness.
"O-oh. I'm… sorry, I didn't mean—"
"You shouldn't assume," Skarr repeated, his eyebrow slowly arching as he noted her flushing features. Juliet looked down at her glass quickly, well-aware of the heat spreading across her face. No, he was right, she shouldn't have assumed. If she had just looked, she would see there was no ring. But how silly would she feel if he had caught her checking his hand for a ring? Certainly less silly than I do presently, she thought bitterly, staring hard at the bubbles on the inside of her water glass. As Juliet scrambled to think of a recovery statement, Skarr relaxed into a familiar feeling. A small, nagging feeling of power. It was very minute, but it was there. He hardly had to try to send the uppity young lady into a mortified little tizzy.
"Don't be embarrassed," he said, setting his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepling his fingers, inwardly willing the woman to be even more embarrassed, "I know I must appear to be quite the catch." It was a bitter statement, a sour little joke at his own expense, but it did the trick. The girl spluttered, scrabbling for words to dig her out of this hole she had put herself in and where he was more than happy to bury her.
"It isn't that—"
"No? You don't think I am?"
"No! That's not what I said-"
"Well, that's awfully rude of you, don't you think?"
"No, what I mean to say—"
"No? Well, I think it is. I don't have very much self-esteem now. You've cut me down."
"You stop that!"
"Stop what? You're the one insulting me in my own home. And after I've shown you nothing but consideration." Juliet set her water on the coffee table and waved her hands insistently.
"No, no, no—"
"Yes, yes, yes." Oh, he really was enjoying this game. The woman made a frustrated noise.
"Ooh! Would you stop? Forgive me for my assumption, I meant nothing by it. It's just that at your age—"
"My age?" He raised an eyebrow, maintaining his posture. Juliet looked horrified. His lips curved into a small, mean smirk.
"Now, now, I only mean that you don't seem the bachelor type," Juliet tried, pointing at him, her arms held close to her body as if to shield herself from his gaze.
"No? Then I am a catch."
"Yes—No!" Juliet made a louder, more insistent noise of exasperation, dropping her head in her hands. He tilted his head, then chuckled darkly.
"You look a bit frazzled, Juliet," he said coolly. Juliet huffed, looking up at him.
"You did that on purpose," she accused lowly.
"Did I?"
"Of course! No decent person would go out of their way to drive someone into a circular minefield of conversation! Twisting my words and laughing at my attempts to right your interpretations of them." He bobbled his head, looking up at the ceiling, pondering a response.
"Well, Juliet… I am not a decent person." Juliet took a drink from her glass.
"I gathered that," she muttered. His eyes narrowed, but his smirk only grew.
"You ought to be in better control of your emotions, Juliet... tantrums are a bit low-brow, aren't they? But, perhaps you are just young." Her cheeks puffed belligerently.
"I am not that young," she sniffed. A sharp exhale of air burst past Skarr's smirk.
"You don't look a day over twelve," he snorted. Juliet wrinkled her tiny nose.
"I'm not twelve! I—"
"Very well, then, ten."
"I am not ten, either!"
"The more you shout, the younger you appear…" he crooned tauntingly. She huffed in disgust.
"I'm twenty-four," she snapped quietly, puffing her chest and taking another sip from her rapidly-depleting drink. Skarr scoffed lightly, the barest hint of his pointed teeth making their appearance. Juliet did not notice.
"You're nothing but a child." She turned her nose up, refusing to respond any further. She was smart to his game now. So she thought.
"A baby," he continued, "I'm almost twice your age." Juliet chanced a look at him through narrowed eyes. He seemed indifferent after offering the information.
"…I would have guessed fifty," she said eventually.
"Oh, that's just rude, Juliet…" He waved his hand in a lazy circle, "I'm forty-three. You mean to say I haven't aged well?"
"Oh, I'm not falling for that again," the woman muttered, setting her glass down again and crossing her arms. Damn it, she was getting smarter after all. Well, then, a new tactic must be introduced.
"There now, don't be so upset. Your face is red enough to be sunburned." She touched her pudgy cheek gently with her fingers.
"Is it really that red?" she asked, sitting up straighter. He nodded in response, making a small gesture towards her.
"Oh, quite red," he went on, "You resemble a spanked ass."
Juliet's hand dropped heavily into her lap, and her jaw surely would have followed at the rate her mouth fell open. Silence hung in the air, heavy enough that Skarr could almost hear the blood rushing to the woman's face. A crooked grin cracked across his face, full of malice and victory.
"Was it something I said…?" he inquired innocently, leaning forward slightly. Juliet's lips pursed into a thin line and her cheeks puffed up again. She looked like she might explode.
Wouldn't that be a sight to see?
Juliet appeared to be contemplating her next sentence very carefully. Skarr hoped she would speak soon, lest she splatter her brains all over his couch and carpet. He had no time for stubborn stains today.
"Don't swear." He turned his head to hear her better.
"Beg pardon?" he asked.
"Don't… swear," Juliet squeaked again. Her voice was strained, fighting to stay controlled. Skarr wrinkled his nose a bit at her odd response.
"Don't… was it the swearing that bothered you? That was the only thing?" Juliet let out a heavy sigh, clenching her fists in her lap. When she spoke her voice was mellow again.
"I don't like foul language. I ask you to respect that." Skarr's face twisted into a look of confusion and mild irritation.
"Res… that's it? My comparison between your face and a rear end had nothing to do with it?" Juliet frowned harder.
"Not… necessarily, no."
"That's preposterous," Skarr scoffed, "I've never heard of such. You really ought to set your priorities right about insults, Juliet."
"Why must you insult me?" she shot back. He was taken aback with the force in her tone. He was even more shocked by her almost immediate regret at her outburst.
"Excuse me… just a bit of frustration ebbing out." Skarr dug his fingertips into the arms of his chair, flexing them as he thought. God, what an odd woman. But, was she right? Why must he insult her? He sifted over his statements quickly. That wasn't an insult. Not… really. Just a part of the banter. Too much, maybe? Unnecessary force?
He should apologize. That's what people did when they crossed lines with pleasant company. Was this even pleasant company? The more he puzzled over his situation, the more questions his mind vomited up at him. As this occurred, he tried to string together an apology for his neighbor.
"This is my house, and I'll swear if I like."
Good Lord, that wasn't an apology at all. Juliet snapped her head up to look at him. She frowned again.
"I can respect that. However I must point out that you can hold very enriching conversations with a person without any four-letter words such as those."
"Motherfucking is not a four letter word."
Dear God, shut up, you're making this into a train wreck. Juliet gasped.
"Reginald!" He huffed at his name. It made him feel like a child being scolded in school.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm a grown man. I've earned my right to swear." It made very good sense to him. Why shouldn't he swear in his own house? This woman and her sensitivities could bloody well get over it.
"It offends me."
"Well, that's too bad, because it doesn't offend me in the least." Juliet gripped her purse tightly, pursing her lips again.
"I find the sound unpleasant."
"What a stupid reason. Furthermore, if you get thrown into a tizzy over a little word like 'ass', then I'm afraid you won't want to hear me in one of my moods." Juliet scoffed, a humorless laugh tumbling past her red lips.
"Oh! You have moods, do you? Here I thought you were just permanently boorish."
"Madam, I'll have you know that I am a military man, and boorish is an insult the likes of which I will not tolerate," Skarr shot back testily, baring his sharpened teeth.
"Whatever's the matter? Don't like the sound of it?" Juliet sang sarcastically, before taking note of his teeth. He caught her look and her expression of shock. His lip curled slightly, making no effort to hide his teeth from her.
"You look as if you've seen something unpleasant," he huffed. Juliet blinked and looked up at his eyes.
"Your teeth…" she murmured. Skarr flicked one of the pointed bones lightly, almost carelessly.
"Yes, marvelous, aren't they? All the rage in the eighties," he muttered, glaring at her over his nose. Juliet sat back against the couch, holding her purse a bit protectively in front of her. He noticed her closed-off posture had shifted from angry to frightened.
For some reason, he didn't much like that change.
Which was odd. He was usually such a fan of it.
"I won't bite, Juliet," he ventured. There was a hint of a growl in his voice, left over from his anger. He partially regretted it. Juliet shook her head rapidly and shivered once. He raised an eyebrow.
"No, no, I… I would hope—think—not…It's just… I've never seen teeth like yours, before… Do they…?"
"Yes," he muttered, leaning back in his chair, "They grow like this. They have since I was a child. Perfect for ripping meat to shreds, I like to think. Wouldn't you agree?" Juliet said nothing, and he shrugged.
"At any rate, you shouldn't be quite so afraid of me for my teeth." He paused, and then added, "There are quite a few reasons more to be frightened of a man such as myself." Juliet blinked rapidly. Was that a threat? If it was, should she leave now? Or was it too late? Too late for what? Scenarios flicked through her mind like slides on a reel, each one ghastly in its own right. It looked like an assortment of scenes from Shark Week or a tacky horror film, and she was very frightened of the images she created. She was even more horrified to find that the images were shifting from ravenous, flesh-tearing bites to small nips. Burning kisses hiding bite marks, trailing across skin like a path on a map to—
Oh, dear God, Juliet, where on Earth did that come from? She saw his eyes narrow suspiciously and felt heat spread across her face again. She ducked her head quickly to hide as much of her blush as she could. She felt like she was glowing. She immediately became petrified of what he might think of her blush. God, who flushes bright red on the topic of teeth? At a threat? He must think something of it. Then again, maybe he hadn't noticed at all. After all, she had been red for most of her visit, had she not? Surely he must think of it as her natural complexion by now. He certainly hadn't noticed the change.
He noticed the change. He didn't know what to make of it though. He hadn't said anything to warrant that reaction. Maybe she just turned red randomly. Perhaps it was a skin condition after all. He drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. Regardless, it wasn't unpleasant. It fit her. It was a softer red, not like the one that flared when she was angry. It peaked his curiosity, but he did not know how to address it. Instead he only said:
"I don't understand why swearing bothers you, Juliet, and I have no intention of changing my habits inside my own home for a one-time visitor." Juliet didn't respond for several seconds, before his statement appeared to click.
"One-time?" she asked quietly. His eyebrows raised slightly.
"Oh," was all he could manage. Juliet shook her head gently.
"I'm sorry… Have I… overstayed?"
"No!" he said quickly, holding a hand out to keep her in place, although she had not moved a bit, "No, you haven't. I—"
"You shouldn't assume," Juliet murmured, tilting her head at his hand before looking up at his face. She saw his pale cheeks tinge slightly, a very light shade of red. Hardly noticeable, and the moment she thought she saw it, he shook his head rapidly and frowned hard, standing up.
"Don't twist my words, woman. You're insufferable," he huffed. Juliet stood too, setting her purse on the couch behind her.
"And you're so perfectly charming."
"Your temper flares so easily," he replied, turning to look down at the shorter woman.
"And yours never leaves you." They squinted at each other, neither aware of the other's thinking but both thinking very similar things.
Suddenly Juliet gasped loudly.
"Oh, God, I've forgotten dinner!" She started hurrying out of the room. The thin man watched her go in surprise before going after her, catching up almost immediately.
"What?"
"Dinner!" she gasped again, rushing for the front door, "Arthur sent me out for potatoes for his steak and I forgot about them completely! What time is it?" She cast a quick glance to her watch. Skarr stopped in his tracks and looked at her hard.
"…Arthur?"
"He expects me home within the next ten minutes, I won't get the potatoes in time!" She opened the front door and looked around at the darkening sky. As she practically skipped down the steps, she looked over her shoulder.
"Thank you for inviting me inside, Reginald, I do hope we can do this again sometime. Please forgive my sudden departure, I really must be off!" She was already halfway down the path, and he scrambled for a full sentence.
"What… what about Wednesday?" he called from his doorway.
"Wednesday sounds lovely!" the woman replied, closing his gate behind her. She waved as she hurried down the sidewalk. He watched her round the corner and follow his fence down the street till she vanished behind his house. His face, softened by surprise, now twisted back into its familiar scowl.
"…Arthur?"