First Night Out Pt3
He knew where he was going. At least it felt like it, when he immediately went off the main road that I had gotten to know in the last two weeks.
The road was… a lot narrower. There were more shadowy alleys. Only a few people on the street.
Mazin walked next to me, happy as a clam. He greeted every single person we met. And always got a response. More or less enthusiastic, two even asked who the ‘lovely lady at his side’ is, to which he answered: “As if I’d ever tell this valuable an information”, laughed and then started to run after he grabbed my hand.
In my own surprise, I actually followed along with it. Falling into step, getting away from the shouts after us. They didn’t sound malicious at all. Which was… odd, considering whom I was running with.
When we were around the next corner, he stopped. And stopped me with him by catching me in the turn and twirling me around.
“Thanks for following, princess”, he whispered in my ear. He liked whispering things in my ear. And pulling my back close to his chest. My hair as standing again. He had a bit of a thing to… stop my movement. I was not entirely okay with that.
He started walking again, and when I tried to frown and tell him as much, I noticed him – once again – grinning. And rolling his eyes.
My frown deepened, until he pushed me lightly to the side: “Hey, you can’t just sho-“
“AH! No!”, he half-yelled, while three little boys just landed on him. Screaming ‘YAAAAH’… or… something along the lines.
Mazin himself had let himself fall. And cushioned his fall on his side. I had watched it since I was just safe from their attack. The boys now sat on him, holding his wrists. The ‘victim’ made his best impression of pained groans. But there was a laugh underneath. He… had too much fun with this.
The boys said things. I had no idea what, of course, but it sounded demanding.
The answers were suitably ‘humiliated’, with a little side of whining.
It was… odd, to hear that.
Then they pointed at me. And suddenly, all… uh… five of them (in various states of tattered dress) stared. I was a little taken aback. They looked somewhat calculating. More words were exchanged.
“Did he… captu-“, “kidnap!”, “-kidnap t-… you?”, his eyes were all big, still grabbing Mazin’s wrists.
That… was my language, though! And they looked genuinely… interested.
The accused man in question just laid on the floor looking up with big eyes, almost pleading. Oh my.
Ah, what the hell…
I answered: “… no, I was not. It was all proper”
The next reaction I did not exactly anticipate, they turned to him and… made fun of him. Schadenfreude.
A forehead collided gently with the floor.
After a few more gloating words, Mazin turned around, the boys falling off, and put the wrist-holder on his lap, a finger on his forehead: “I so did. As you pointed out, I wouldn’t get such a lovely one otherwise. You’re totally right”, and put him down completely.
They all jumped on him again.
And for a moment, he looked like he would fall again, but Mazin looked at me and then shook himself like a… a wet dog.
And they tumbled all to the floor with loud protests.
“Sorry boys, need to at least treat my kidnap victim nicely”, he lifted his – every present – hat and ruffled everyone’s hair.
Then we start running again.
Around the next corner he didn’t stop me, only slowed down. And then said, with a bit of an apologetic face: “Sorry about that. They didn’t see me in a while. But we’re almost there!”, he pointed to a… tavern. There was no other word for it.
And I stared at him.
What was up with this man. Seriously.
