Anyone ever told you you’re annoying? Who: Eli and Turin. What: Chance meetings. When: Saturday night. Where: The STREETS. (I have no idea, out and about.) Rating: PG-13 for language. Status: Complete!
Walking down the street in a pretty blue sundress and combat boots, Eli knew she was an odd sight. For one, it was three in the morning. Her aversion to sunlight had gotten worse, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. So she’d waited until the night had fallen and told her mother she was going out for some fresh air.
As she walked, she practiced controlling her fangs, the sharp points more like needles every day. But she practiced with her mouths closed so nobody would see her.
Turin liked the darkness. Ever since his near death experience, he'd had a hard time adjusting to normal life. He was taking a walk, musing on his sister..wife..person...He wondered what his being alive meant for them. If that would mean they were still married.
It would make things...complicated.
Eli wasn’t watching where she was going, and she accidentally bumped into a taller man. “Oh, excuse me,” she murmured, quiet and in her curiously accented English.
“It’s all right,” Turambad replied. He looked at the girl, with her pretty sundress and her combat boots. He wondered if she was safe out here alone at night. Then he wondered if she was some kind of lady of the night. He had that sort of luck.
Eli’s accent usually marked her as a foreigner, and she was glad that the man hadn’t asked her where she was from. Biting her lip, she belatedly realized her fangs were still out. “Ow,” she muttered. “Merde.”
He was somewhat familiar. Years in the States had only helped him disguise his own. He put aside his own troubles. “Harsh language for a girl your age. Are you okay?”
“You do not know my age.” She looked up at him defiantly with her bloody lower lip. “I am fine.”
He looked at her lip, then pulled a hankerchief out of his pocket. “Here.” He held it out for her.
She shook her head, licking the blood off of her lip and trying to walk past him. “It is fine, it is my own fault anyway.”
“I wasn’t trying to scare you,” he said, wondering if he’d startled her into biting her lip. Turin folded his arms, tucking away the hankerchief. “What are you doing out here all alone?”
“I was talking a walk. I have a condition where the sunlight ... hurts me.” She folded her arms, but belatedly realized that looked a bit petulant. “I am sorry, I do not mean to offend.”
“No, I’m being offensive. I’m good at that,” Turin said, self-depreciatively. “I’m Turambar.”
“You are not offensive,” Eli smiled. “I have many schoolmates who are. I am Eli.” She offered him her tiny hand to shake.
Turin took Eli’s hand and squeezed it as he shook. He was a lot more offensive than she probably realized, but that was Turin’s guy speaking. He wasn’t all that fond of himself right now. “That’s a pretty name. Swedish?”
Eli nodded. “It is, yes. I was born in Stockholm.” She smiled shyly, looking up at him. “You’re not from him either, are you?”
He shook his head, “I was born in this state, but I grew up in France. I spent most of my life over there, until I came back after University. I’m a writer.”
Beaming, Eli replied in perfect French. “You write? That must be wonderful!”
That might actually be a smile on Turin’s face. A very tiny one. A ghost of a smile. “I write mystery novels with a paranormal twist.”
“Have you published anything? I would very much like to read them.” Eli read everything, she wasn’t discriminatory. “You are smiling. You should do that more.”
“I have quite a few novels.” His smile widened a fraction of an inch, and Turin pulled out his wallet. “They’re all under Black Sword Press.”
Eli tiptoed up, trying to see what he was doing, but she figured she should write that down. She’d Google the publishing house later, then look up his bibliography. “I’ll read them and let you know what I think.”
He handed her a business card, with his website and email on it. “Here. It’ll be easier to find.” Encouraging people to read his work? It was enough to improve his mood!
“Oh, thank you!” Eli put the card into her purse, smiling at him. “I must admit, you seem more approachable when you’re happy.”
He wished he was happy more often. “I’ll try to be. I don’t often have occasion to smile.”
“Why?” Cocking her head to the side, Eli studied him. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing that can be fixed easily.” He patted her shoulder. “Thank you for asking.”
“Well, what is it?” It didn’t matter if it could be fixed easily or not.
“I’ve been gone for nearly a year. I’m not sure if I should reconnect with my loved ones. They’ve moved on. I already tried, and I think it might have been better if I hadn’t.”
“Moved on from what? You do not move on from family.”
“When they think you’re dead, they do.”
“Oh.” Eli leaned against the wall, tongue running along her teeth, glad they were listening to her. “Why did they think this?”
Turin frowned. “There was a home invasion. I was shot, and the house burned down. I didn’t remember who I was for several months.”
“That must have been difficult for everyone involved. I am sure they want you in their life, they are probably just still wounded. Losing family is likely hard.” Not that she’d know.
“I suppose. I just thought it would give her a fresh start.” Turin shook his head. It was too late to cry on it now. “You’re wise, for being so young.”
“Who is her?” Eli didn’t comment on the compliment regarding her wisdom; she’d heard it before.
Turin wasn’t sure whether to call her his sister or his wife. “Someone I was close to. She’s happier now without me.”
“Has she said so or are you guessing?”
“I’m guessing, mostly.”
“You should not. It will lead you astray, and then you will feel stupid.”
“It’s not hard for me to feel stupid. I’ve been incredibly stupid in the past, but that’s not something I’m really free to talk about.” His smile was a little wider now, though.
“All I know is that guessing has never gotten anyone anywhere without trying to get proof afterward,” Eli murmured, folding her arms. Why would someone want to live while feeling stupid?
“Things aren’t always so easily defined, Eli.” Turin was still smiling at her. She was adorbs.
“Yes. They are.” She still had her arms folded, a defiant tilt of her chin in his direction.
“What makes you think this is one of them?” What could a girl her age understand about family shame and life altering mistakes?
“If you ask her if she hates you, if she is better off without you, she will say no. Then you can discuss what the real problem is. You have to get things out into the air.” Her fangs had come out, and she sighed, scrunching her nose up as she focused on getting them back into the right place. Clearly being irritated made her fangs pop. Note to self.
“How do you know she’ll say no?” Turin’s expression changed into a scowl.
“I don’t. But if she does say no, at least you will know the truth. But if she is a worthwhile family member, she will not.”
“I suppose that’s better advice than I give myself.” He smiled wryly, though he was still half scowling.
“Likely. You have stopped smiling again.”
“Must you point that out?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone ever told you you’re annoying?”
“Yes.”
“Fine, I’ll talk to her. Are you happy?” He glowered.
“Yes.” She smiled impishly at him, turning on her heel to continue her walk.
He watched her go, perplexed. “Are you sure you’ll be safe?”
“Yes. Goodbye, Turin. I will let you know about your books via the internet.” She waved at him over her shoulder, not turning around. He was a strange one.