Elias' quick eyes caught every telling twitch that this boy gave. Whatever else he might say about Brigetta, the woman at least taught him how to read people -- and read them well. His lover had made a vast and detailed study of people; they'd fascinated her. Elias had little interest, himself, but being with Brigetta meant loving everything she loved. She was infectious, that way...
Ah, there it was again, that nagging ache that he thought he'd conquered after 5 years. Brigetta had given him many things, but she'd left with a piece of him that he hadn't yet recovered. The truth of this was made evident to him in the smallest ways, every so often. Today was another good example, he realized, and the realization darkened his eyes -- turned them into sharp bits of green ice.
But the rest of his face remained stony and unreadable. "Oh?" he asked quietly. "Is she expecting you?"
It was very likely, Elias realized, that she was. He had not made plans to visit her. He may well have been interrupting. The thought did not sit well with him.
And the thought that this timid boy was her ... "friend" ... gave Elias pause as well. Did he deserve to be? He didn't seem very threatening. Then again, serial murderers were oftentimes charming. He assessed this man carefully. Yes. He could be a serial killer.