a kiss to make the other stop being stubborn - Dijkstra/Isengrim
Not sure if entirely a prompt fill, but you get what you get.
NB: this is set after Dijkstra and Isengrim flee to Zerrikania. Also, Zerrikania is giving fin-de-siecle Shanghai.
It was a good day. Good days made him nervous. Leaning out of the inadequate café chair, Dijkstra curled down the edge of his newspaper and glanced across the sunlit Zerrikanian square at the Redanian embassy. He studied its modest façade, the two guards dozing by the entrance. Something caught the light in a second-floor window, once, twice. Dijkstra rocked back, covering his face with the newspaper. The inadequate chair creaked ominously.
“I wouldn’t bother hiding. You’d need a bigger newspaper anyway,” snorted the elf.
Dijkstra glanced at him, sitting there in the sun with his eyes half-closed like a fed cat, and imagined the pleasure of snapping his neck.
“Easy for you to say,” he said. “You don’t fear your old life coming to find you.”
The elf held a cigarette to his mouth, snipped the tip, inhaled. “My friend, is that what you fear or what you hope for?”
The elf’s neck looked all the more tempting. Dijkstra grabbed him by the collar. “Damn you, Faoltiarna. I know taunting dh’oine is something of a sport for your kind, but can you get it through your thick head, can you, that my life’s at stake here? It could end at any moment.”
Isengrim leaned forward and, damn him to hell for doing it in public, gave him a wet peck on the nose. “Then at least you must enjoy the time you have left.”
