Untitled drabble (2015-12-06)

“One day, you will find yourself lost and terribly alone,” she says, tone flat and empty.

The man kneeling before her looks his fill, eyes going dry from his staring. His hands shake, he presses them against his legs to still them.

“On that day, you will call for me, and I will come,” she continues, and though her voice stays the same, her leather jacket creaks from the motion of her fists in her pockets, “And we will renegotiate then,” she finishes, before turning and walking away.

The man does not call out after her, does not beg her to stop and explain, does not say anything.

He stays kneeling, even an hour after she’s already gone.

It will be fifteen years the next time he sees her, and she has not aged at all.

“Go away, Az” she says, one irritation away from justified manslaughter. Normally, she is an epitome of calm, but right now she feels like a disgusting stereotype of a hot-tempered redheaded woman.

“I need a favor,” Az says, completely ignoring her words and sidling his way around her and into her office.

“I don’t owe you anything,” she responds, and already she has lost by engaging with him. Well, at least he’s not touching anything.

He looks and smells like he crawled out of a bar–alcohol and cigarettes and human sweat, maybe even some piss–so keeping his hands to himself is the least he can do.

“I need you to look after your niece for a while,” he says, unapologetic, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“I don’t have any siblings.”

“And yet,” he shoots back with a smile, “your daughter has a cousin.”

“Hell, which of you assholes had a kid and what happened to the poor sucker who was the mother?” She asks, shock and curiosity overcoming her annoyance.

Az grins wider, “Me, of course. And old age happened to her–you know how humans are,” he says with a nearly careless shrug, but she spots the way his smile trembles at the edges. 

“They barely last a century.”


A/N: … 🙂

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