rabbittut
London
You never truly know how much you will need someone until you do. That's the funny thing about first meetings though. Out of all of the people in the world, in a short place in time one is plucked out of the crowd and for one reason or another thrown into your path. Of course, you have no way of knowing how important these first meetings are until later. Some people are gone in the blink of an eye, others stay with you forever.
It's not unusual that you notice this man walking into the bakery. He is of course accompanied by your close friend and room mate Charlotte, but that is not what you notice about him. No, surely you are seeing what everyone else is seeing. A stark white and very slight man in a long coat. He is otherworldly. There aren't many other ways to describe him really. Beside his obvious lack of pigmentation, he still couldn't be described as normal in any way. There is something about his energy, an indescribable quality that you try to name in your head but fail to. He seems minimally concerned with the curious looks he receives, which you suppose is because he must be used to it by now. Yours is no different and you look back down at the sugar packets you are trying to cram into the holder. You don't want to be rude.
Charlotte approaches you and it's only now you notice that this man is accompanying her. He makes no effort to introduce himself. You are staring again, when Charlotte's voice cuts in.
"Hey Sy! This is my brother, London. He is a writer."
What a very plain introduction for such an odd man.
He stands feet apart leaning, if only slightly, on his cane. His eyes penetrate you. To say that you felt intimidated by him might be an understatement. You wanted him though. Maybe you didn't know it yet, but you wanted him. Your intentions were unknown. That lurch in your stomach is familiar, and you know you have to say something to him or that stare will never let up.
"Hello."
That's all you can manage, so caught off guard by him.
He doesn't say anything. Oh God why doesn't he say anything? His eyes twitch over you slightly as if nodding for his head, but his mouth stays closed in that small frown. He is not amused by you, and why should he be? Charlotte smiles around him though and touches your arm gently.
"Well, I'm just going to grab an ice tea before you guys close up. You want anything London?"
He shakes his head twice in response, then seats himself gingerly at the table you are stocking.
"It's only two blocks away." He says, and his voice is the male version of Charlotte's. A monotone rumble barely audible to your ears. You're dumbfounded and unsure if he is talking to you or not. You take a quick look around and decide he must be because Charlotte is across the room now.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"My house. It's only two blocks away from Charlotte's. That's why I'm surprised you have never seen me before."
He is not a very skilled ice breaker, and he has you so muddled it takes you three seconds longer than it should have to respond.
"Oh, well I have only been living there for a week or so."
"Closer to two weeks actually." He looks out the window. He is well informed.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"I can tell when people have already seen me because they don't stare as long."
You don't know how to respond, and you are terrified that he thinks very little of you.
"That's a joke." He says in the most serious and unconvincing tone.
"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't," But he cuts you off by raising a hand.
"Don't be."
"Okay."
"Are you afraid of me?" He asks with a hint of amusement.
You don't think about it, perhaps you are too honest and too easy to read.
"A little." Much too honest. It's not even fear though, more like reserved but very intense curiosity.
He is smiling now, and you're not sure when you looked away long enough for that to happen.
"Don't be." He says again.
"Okay."
"Charlotte adores you, that's all I need to know."
You return the smile. It's the most forced awkward smile ever and you can feel your eyebrows pulling together.
"You're leaking." His eyes gesture down to the sugar packet that was torn and now spilling out onto the counter. He leaves you fumbling to wipe it up, and meets Charlotte at the door. She is waving goodbye with a to-go cup in her other hand. Before leaving London turns to give you one last once-over, his expression blank again. He is at once the most amazing and subjugating person you have ever met. You want him. You want him to know you. You want him to like you. You want him to never speak to you again.
London
You never truly know how much you will need someone until you do. That's the funny thing about first meetings though. Out of all of the people in the world, in a short place in time one is plucked out of the crowd and for one reason or another thrown into your path. Of course, you have no way of knowing how important these first meetings are until later. Some people are gone in the blink of an eye, others stay with you forever.
It's not unusual that you notice this man walking into the bakery. He is of course accompanied by your close friend and room mate Charlotte, but that is not what you notice about him. No, surely you are seeing what everyone else is seeing. A stark white and very slight man in a long coat. He is otherworldly. There aren't many other ways to describe him really. Beside his obvious lack of pigmentation, he still couldn't be described as normal in any way. There is something about his energy, an indescribable quality that you try to name in your head but fail to. He seems minimally concerned with the curious looks he receives, which you suppose is because he must be used to it by now. Yours is no different and you look back down at the sugar packets you are trying to cram into the holder. You don't want to be rude.
Charlotte approaches you and it's only now you notice that this man is accompanying her. He makes no effort to introduce himself. You are staring again, when Charlotte's voice cuts in.
"Hey Sy! This is my brother, London. He is a writer."
What a very plain introduction for such an odd man.
He stands feet apart leaning, if only slightly, on his cane. His eyes penetrate you. To say that you felt intimidated by him might be an understatement. You wanted him though. Maybe you didn't know it yet, but you wanted him. Your intentions were unknown. That lurch in your stomach is familiar, and you know you have to say something to him or that stare will never let up.
"Hello."
That's all you can manage, so caught off guard by him.
He doesn't say anything. Oh God why doesn't he say anything? His eyes twitch over you slightly as if nodding for his head, but his mouth stays closed in that small frown. He is not amused by you, and why should he be? Charlotte smiles around him though and touches your arm gently.
"Well, I'm just going to grab an ice tea before you guys close up. You want anything London?"
He shakes his head twice in response, then seats himself gingerly at the table you are stocking.
"It's only two blocks away." He says, and his voice is the male version of Charlotte's. A monotone rumble barely audible to your ears. You're dumbfounded and unsure if he is talking to you or not. You take a quick look around and decide he must be because Charlotte is across the room now.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"My house. It's only two blocks away from Charlotte's. That's why I'm surprised you have never seen me before."
He is not a very skilled ice breaker, and he has you so muddled it takes you three seconds longer than it should have to respond.
"Oh, well I have only been living there for a week or so."
"Closer to two weeks actually." He looks out the window. He is well informed.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"I can tell when people have already seen me because they don't stare as long."
You don't know how to respond, and you are terrified that he thinks very little of you.
"That's a joke." He says in the most serious and unconvincing tone.
"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't," But he cuts you off by raising a hand.
"Don't be."
"Okay."
"Are you afraid of me?" He asks with a hint of amusement.
You don't think about it, perhaps you are too honest and too easy to read.
"A little." Much too honest. It's not even fear though, more like reserved but very intense curiosity.
He is smiling now, and you're not sure when you looked away long enough for that to happen.
"Don't be." He says again.
"Okay."
"Charlotte adores you, that's all I need to know."
You return the smile. It's the most forced awkward smile ever and you can feel your eyebrows pulling together.
"You're leaking." His eyes gesture down to the sugar packet that was torn and now spilling out onto the counter. He leaves you fumbling to wipe it up, and meets Charlotte at the door. She is waving goodbye with a to-go cup in her other hand. Before leaving London turns to give you one last once-over, his expression blank again. He is at once the most amazing and subjugating person you have ever met. You want him. You want him to know you. You want him to like you. You want him to never speak to you again.