"Knowing", Baccano!, (Eve/Luck)
Title: Knowing Author/Artist: shiegra Rating:PG13 Prompt: Baccano! - Luck/Eve - courting rituals - "I never know what you mean."
She waited for him on the porch in the July heat, the broad brim of a white hat shielding her face, white dress fluttering in the breeze. The trees spread leaf-jeweled branches over her head and she touched the brim and lifted her face to watch the bright hot glitter of sunlight filter through.
When he came up the walk she rose from the bench and walked down the creaking steps, dappled with light, her face solemn and lovely, hair unbound over her shoulders and against her cheeks. “Luck,” she said to him, and extended a hand that didn’t shake but wouldn’t relax. Her tongue lingered over the word as though it was far more private than it truly was, and he bowed.
He took it and lifted to his lips, impeccable courtesy, and she watched him with the dark wary eyes of a doe ready to spring away. “Eve.” He greeted her softly in return. “Will you walk with me?”
“Of course.” She accepted his arm, chin high, but he guided her into the garden instead of the street; Luck was observant if he was nothing else, and it was plain to see that Eve did not favor the city terribly much.
He also remembered that set of her jaw. The last time he had seen it, she had learned her brother’s fate and hurled deprecations at him, sharp tongued reprimands, no fear for herself in a killer’s den.
“Something is on your mind?” He asked gently, and she dropped a hand to touch the gently nodding heads of flowers at her sides, eyes wide and thoughtful and turned away from him.
“Luck...” she began, and her hand tightened almost imperceptibly on his arm. “I don’t understand you.” She finally said, achingly awkward.
He stopped and she stopped as well, turning to look up at him. The sun made her squint and her mouth twisted, obstinate reticence creeping into her features. Her grip on him loosened again. “I never know what you mean.” She added. “When you came here—what you’ve...”
It made him smile faintly, her sheer straightforwardness. “Do you doubt the truth in anything I’ve said?” He asked her calmly.
“I don’t think you’re a liar.” Eve said, which didn’t directly answer the question but told him just enough; that she was far too practical to simply trust her instincts, but the instinct was there.
“You didn’t like the gift, then?” He inquired, and a flash of exasperation crossed her face.
“No,” Eve told him, “it was beautiful. And exactly what I required. It made me think—”
She paused, her eyes dark, and bit her lower lip as she stared at him with that determinedly assessing gaze. “I think you know me far better than I know you.” She finally finished. “And I don’t know how.”
He bent to her in the sun drenched garden and kissed her for the first time, his mouth soft on hers. She was very still for a moment, shoulders tense, but slowly and gently she relaxed into him, her head tipping up, allowing him to take some of her weight.
“Perhaps I am more simple than you think.” He murmured against her lips, and her eyes fluttered open to regard him solemnly.
“I don’t think so.” She said with grave consideration, but she slid her fingers through his and asked nothing more.