@vxlkyrieonline
“Perhaps both. I like to think I am in the business of being right, after all.”
He looks almost her age, before the roguish smile spreads over his lips like ink over a sheet of paper and blots five years off his face. Angela tilts her head, blue eyes questioning, gaze sharp as a razor. Twenty-seven years old, and already her stare carries the formidable weight of someone who has far too many lives on her shoulders and no intention of dropping any.
His wink is like trying to deflect a thrown bowling ball with a toothpick, and before she can really think about it, she is already stepping closer, reaching into her purse for wet wipes and ointment. She never could resist trying to help, even if it would eat up the precious free night before the conference that dragged her halfway across the globe.
“You’re hurt. Let me see.”
As the woman steps towards him, Genji tenses, his shoulders drawing back and away. But he still smiles, looking easy and ungaurded; perhaps that’s the most frightening thing about him.
“So forward. Won’t you even buy me a drink first? I know a great place to take a woman of your standards...”
His eyes raked over her once appreciatively, and yes, she was pretty, but he couldn’t really care at the moment--All he wants is a smoke, and maybe to go home for once. He was still on the fence about it, even as he held a hand out to yet another stranger.
