She grins something seraphic, mirth coaxing her luminous as features tilt, “does that mean you won’t be firing me as a client?” Mossy irises scan the shadows, amusement found in those plucking joy from the night’s transgressions; a pair kissing feverishly in the corner, a group of girls stumbling and laughing something girlish. “No explanation needed, but questions aren’t always a bad thing,” she shrugs, a smile curving to her mouth, “it can be a free bribe, an honest answer for every exam I pass.”
The removal of contact lifts a chill to copper-hued flesh, and the loneliness pressed like thorns to her skeletal has her itching to reach out, to thread digits and regain proximity, though his cadence keeps her still. “You’re perceptive, observant. You look at me, and I feel–” shadows tuck beneath a jaw as molars ascend to a clench, the blonde pausing for the length of a step, “seen.” Digits of chipped lacquer lift to tuck a curl behind her ear, swallowing thickly, “and so I’m afraid of what you might think of me, because whatever it may be, good or bad, I think it may be the truth.” For Tripp she laughs diamonds that hurt the whole way up, for Margot she spins until she can no longer see straight, and for Charlie she’s all the rays she can muster. But for Ezra, it felt as though it wouldn’t matter: he’d see right through whatever fragmented version of herself she spun. Brows tug to a knead as she finally glances sideways at him, “that sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” And she’s grinning then, feigning jest to lighten her sentiments, “fuck, and I’m not even high yet.”
“I won’t be booting you just yet. Money is money. Besides, I like to prove the quality of my goods before I get snooty and turn away clientele.” He taps his trusty pocket again, another nod of promise to what he has ready for her. “And now you’ve made it a game. An interesting one at that.” The grin on his lips fades to a ghost of amusement, the kind that fails to reach his eyes. It’s an expression that promises there’s more behind his words, something there he will not say.
The ease of their banter dies sudden and Ezra finds himself listening. He listens, telling himself it’s what he’s meant to do to keep this transaction clean, that it’s the way to gain her trust and make his cut. But, if he were honest, he’s interested in her as well. He’s sat across from the blond for months, dealt with his fair share of frustration as her tutor. This is the first time he’s found himself genuinely intrigued by her. Sober, masks down and ego stripped, the nightmare pupil has become human. He wonders for the first time about this green eyed doe spilling fears like a wound from her lips. It makes him wonder when he lives to be removed.
“I get why the Margot and you are so close,” he comments softer, as if to himself. He’s not sure he wants to address her demons, not sure where it will put them. He mentions Margot to sound contemplative, to seem less interested even though the comment is honest. There are shades of them in one another and he thinks again how like calls to like. “Not stupid,” he stops walking, “You don’t want to be seen. Least of all by the rat.” His gaze is careful, effortlessly empty as he offers her a padded hand. “Correct?”
