I've become impossible
holding on to when
when everything seemed to matter more
the two of us
all used and beaten up
watching fate as it flows down the path we
have chosen

you and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
if the world should break in two
until the very end of me
until the very end of you

awake to the sound as they peel apart the skin
they pick and they pull
trying to get their fingers in
well they've got to kill what we've found
well they've got to hate what they fear
well they've got to make it go away
well they've got to make it disappear

the farther I fall I'm beside you
as lost as I get I will find you
the deeper the wound I'm inside you
for ever and ever I'm a part of

you and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
if the world should break in two
until the very end of me
until the very end of you

all that we were is gone we have to hold on
when all our hope is gone we have to hold on
all that we were is gone but we can hold on

you and me
we're in this together now
none of them can stop us now
we will make it through somehow
you and me
even after everything
you're the queen and I'm the king
nothing else means anything



---



Blank, white; a void. That’s all I can see. A step forward, a stepping stone back for me. I don’t know where I walk towards, but I know every step I take will lead me away from all that remains of who I am. Time will pass and I suppose this facet, this ‘me’ will erode. At least, that’s what I tell myself… it’s somewhat more comforting than the thought of remaining caught in this soulless standstill for much longer. I don’t know. I want this to end. I want to draw blinds across the world and put all its citizens to sleep. I want to make them forget, every last one of them, so that by the time they’ve awoken from their slumber, eons later, they’ll see me in a wholly new way. And maybe if I’m lucky, just maybe, I’ll have forgotten what it was I kept running from, too. I want to reinvent this me, this thing I’ve grown to refer to as myself. I want to disappear, to become numb and immune to everything and everyone, until it’s all okay, until it’s safe for me to exist once more. Kind of like a light switch… on, off, on, off.

I can see buildings, towers, I’m so insignificant now… always. And so is everyone else, I suppose. I can’t turn back anymore. If I keep on going, just a few paces more, maybe I’ll be free at last. They won’t touch me, threaten me, anything. No more them – just you and me. I love you. That’s right. You’re the one who told me to get away from them, and I did, just as you asked. Now what ? No, you tell me I’m crazy to think I can succeed. But I will, just fucking watch me ! Shut up ! No ! I love you ! Who the fuck are you ? Get away from me !

On. Off. On. Off.

Please, don’t leave me.

Aretsuya scanned her eyes dully over the streets surrounding her, observing the countless business commuters, the hustle and bustle of the city with its infinite array of activities. So many wonders, so much to do. She didn’t notice, however, the lone pigeon scavenging in search of scraps, or the children who skipped and mimicked each other with giddy innocence. She was infatuated, but she could not remember with what, or whence she came here from… just that she couldn’t turn back, for fear of those who hurt her returning to claim what they’d accidentally lost. Those who gained pleasure in her violation. She couldn’t blame them, though; she survived solely through their abuse. They, who bought her life. Her food, her shelter, clothes. Everything. But she hated their mistreatment.

Then someone new came along. Told her she loved her. Oh, and what a fool she had been to believe her… still, she did what her lover instructed her to do: she ran away. “Aretsuya will be happy when she leaves behind her old self. She’ll be a new person, and together we’ll be untouchable. No one will ever hurt you again,” the voice cooed gently. And she obeyed.

Aretsuya leaned against a hard, brick wall, the grit scraping against the thin cloth which covered her frail and timid self. She could hear them talking to her, telling her to move before anyone recognized her for what she was. But she didn’t want to, not yet. The atmosphere was so pleasant, so… free. She wanted time to absorb it all, to make it last as long as possible before she was trapped again and thrown back forcefully into the throes of her old profession and all the pain it entailed. Because in the back of her mind, she knew her lover was wrong. She had too much and too little faith in Aretsuya.

She felt the early morning breeze brush softly against her face, offering her a brief respite and washing her with relief from the scalding heat. She withstood the urge to wipe the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, letting the perspiration cool against her skin instead. A moment passed... and then another…

No ! Move ! Or I’ll hurt you. I swear, I will hurt you. Don’t stop now, you have to move before they get you again !

She took a hesitant step forward, her blood-shod feet leading her towards a dismal and dilapidated building. She’d go there for shelter, until her love told her what to do next, all the while hoping that the stares of the swarms of people clothed in their various garments would disappear. They were too suffocating, too close together to even allow the air to circulate between their bodies. She knew they thought her to be corrupted. Unclean. Maybe somewhere else, they’d look at her differently. Maybe they would finally see her the way her lover did.

Where are you ?

“That’s it ?!”

“Deal’s a deal. You don’t provide the service, you don’t get the money.”

Viktoriya bit down onto her lip, her fingers frantically thumbing through the meager sum of credits that had just been thrust roughly into her palms for a second time, eyes widened with disbelief. The man who lay swathed in a cocoon of white sheets behind her watched on nonchalantly, the faintest traces of a smirk forming at the corners of his parched mouth as he observed her shoulders quiver with dismay, almost as though he took pleasure in her humiliation. Even amidst the wordless mockery, he managed to take note of the sudden opening, and seized the opportunity to slide his hand along the curvature of the girl’s naked spine. Her back shivered, but other than the sheer physicality of it, she seemed to pay no mind to his prying hands; instead, she closed her eyes, heaved a shuddering yet muted sigh, and nodded with dejected acceptance.

Brushing aside a vagrant lock of blonde-black hair from her face, she slipped her legs over the edge of the bed, displacing the man’s fingers from where it had settled over her buttocks. Chuckling, he turned to rest on his back once again, his hands now occupied with the task of lighting a cigarette. As Viktoriya finished pulling up her knee-length socks and strapping her boot buckles in place, she hesitantly canted her head in his direction and lowered her gaze to the mattress, and, reducing her voice to a slight whisper, mouthed a tentative question.

“Well, could you at least give me a ride to the--”

He snapped. “Who’s paying who again ? I’m not your fucking cabbie.” The man’s words resonated violently throughout the supposed morning peace, and Viktoriya had to draw on her every last reserve of restraint to avoid crying. Grabbing hold of her purse from where she had dropped it on the nightstand many hours before, she hurried outside the small apartment, her heels clicking erratically against the cheaply tiled floors. As she stumbled along the narrow corridor, she could discern the sounds of his caustic laughter, escorting her all the way to the building’s primary staircase.

“You’re welcome !” came the final derisive call. Grimacing, she leaped down the stairs, taking several at a time in order to hasten her escape.

The air was thick with humidity, but provided a pleasant contrast with the stiflingly cramped conditions inside the room where she had spent the previous night. Draping her shawl loosely around her throat, she tucked her fingertips inside the pockets of her skirt and ventured through the crowded streets. She had received a strange call from her companion, Aretsuya, during her previous shift, and had thus been left with no choice but to cut it short. It was a ritual she had grown quite accustomed to in the short time since the two women had become acquainted, but it was a dependency Viktoriya deeply cherished -- even coveted. The term friendship had little meaning in their business, and to develop a bond that transcended simply that alone … well, to call it a rarity would be a gross understatement.

Twenty minutes later, Viktoriya found herself standing in the midst of one of the more derelict areas within the district. Home. Placing one hand over her forehead to act as a shield against the sun’s glare, she glanced across the street, and within a few seconds a smile began tugging along the sides of her lips. There, at the corner of a rundown old coffee-shop they often frequented, stood a lone hunched figure, strands of brilliant cherry-coloured hair framing features which could be distinguished even at their distance as being unique and striking. Grinning broadly, Viktoriya strode quietly over to her partner from behind, and wrapped her arms around the redhead’s slender waist.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she whispered, nuzzling her face against the crevice of the other girl’s neck. She felt Aretsuya’s muscles tense up for an instant before melting back against hers, once the familiar touch and fragrance which marked her friend’s distinctive arrival had been established.

Aretsuya eased herself away from the embrace and turned to face the young blonde. “Were you just … ?”

“I was working,” Viktoriya finished abruptly, preventing the girl from pursuing that particular line of questioning any further. She watched as her cohort’s face grew dark from disheartenment, but forced herself to continue the facade sustained by her smile, despite the grave undertones of sadness. “Come on, let’s get something to eat,” she said, hooking her arm through Aretsuya’s and maneuvering her towards the cafe's entrance. “I’m starving. My treat.” The day had begun on a sufficiently despondent key, but there was no reason to uphold that trend ... especially now that she was in the company of the one person dearest to her.

“…and so any other questions you should have, just get ahold of me at the embassy.” Irtar said a smile as he leaned back slightly in his chair. The young run-away Jedi was dressed in a simple suit today rather than the standard robes. He’d begun to change his dressing habits to more meet that of an ambassador than a Jedi. Irtar had just began to feel guilty for dressing up as a Jedi when he pretty much cut most ties with them. Yeah, he still pursued it on his own but mainly on his own.

Today Irtar was meeting with a businessman with interest in investing some major money into some of the Sinsangese defense companies. Unfortunately for Irtar, since such businesses were now under the Coalition they had to send a representative to speak with the foreign investor and to ensure that the man understand, under Coalition law, the requirements and blah blah blah.

The business man nodded solemnly as he gathered up the papers into his briefcase and extended his hand to Irtar. “A pleasure to invest in the future of the Coalition Ambassador. I hope this proves profitable for both of us.” The man said as Irtar took his hand and shook it firmly. The man promptly left, likely to run over business portfolios. Ambassadors weren’t meant to be this versatile, Irtar thought with a groan.

Irtar gathered his empty mug and walked up to the counter, asking for another coffee and a delightful turkey club sandwich that had been glaring at him the whole meeting. With it, he took to his seat with a smile. His lunch had been far pushed back from all the meetings of the day.

The planetary representative had to inform him of the local laws and his rights on the planet. Security and customs. The meeting with the businessman. It was all just a pain. But then again, maybe that’s why the Sinsangese sent him. Why not use the Coalition as a means to relay your information. Running them and theirs around for free instead of paying someone themselves.

“Getting their bang for their buck…” Irtar muttered as he lucked down into the darkness of the brew. Then he heard someone clearing their voice and looking at him dead on.

The blonde woman and her friend had made their way into the café a time ago and hadn’t taken much note of them. But now the blonde one was shooting daggers from her eyes right at him. He raised his brow for a moment, not realizing why the woman looked so offended. But… dressed like that, giving him that look, to that comment. It quickly dawned on the blank man what he’d accidentally done.

“OH! I… erm… I didn’t… I mean I don’t… It’s just that…!” Irtar stammered out, with a crimson face. Waving his hands as if to emphasize he hadn’t even known or thought it that way. He sighed and dropped his head in defeat as the woman cast him a final cold glare before turning back to whatever conversation she was having.

Great. Wonderful work Ambassador. You’ve managed to piss off one of the only other people in the café.

Irtar decided just to shut up and enjoy his coffee and his sandwhich and then get the hell out of there. As he gave his meager lunch the attention of his body, his mind began to linger elsewhere.

To golden fields, and to the harvest. It was that time of year after all on the farm. His Dad always took them to town when the harvest was done and they had to take the crop in. There were only one or two urban-ish areas. He used to think of them as these big towns but after being around he realized how small town it all was. But it made no difference to them in those days. Irtar normally spent his time at the Galactic Cyber Emporium. Checking all the gizmos and gadgets.

His brothers had always made fun of him for it, but he didn’t really care. After all, it was his turn for laughing when they inevitably broke a limb with what THEY bought. You’d be amazed the carnage his brothers could cause in-between football gear and even hammocks.

Irtar laughed a bit at the memory, shaking his head as he took a healthy bite from the sandwhich.

Hand in hand, the two youths pushed aside the tinted-glass doors that served as the entrance to the establishment, a small bell whistling mutedly to announce their arrival as they stepped over the threshold. The cafe was lit poorly and equipped only to accommodate a handful of customers simultaneously, but the comfortably worn settees, hand-embroidered cushions and pastel water-coloured paintings that adorned the walls all helped to evoke a sense of warmth and familiarity reminiscent of rainy summer afternoons spent in some faraway, idyllic fairytale cottage. It was difficult not to feel absorbed by the soothing tones and delicate smells wafting through the bar, and as the girls settled into their usual seats, a cheerful aged woman ambled over to their table, a pleasant smile already poised in greeting.

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about little old me, what with you two not having come by in so long and all ! I’m not going to stand for that again, you hear ?” she began, wagging a finger in mock reprimand as she scolded them. “Now then, what can I get you darlings today ? Heavens, you both look skinny as rails !”

Viktoriya couldn’t help but laugh under her breath. She had worked a few odd jobs for the cafe's long-standing owner during her childhood years, and to this day the pair maintained an amicable and near-inseparable relationship. Whether the elderly lady was genuinely oblivious to the nature of their profession, or simply chose to turn the other way in denial, Viktoriya couldn’t be sure; nonetheless, she appreciated the welcoming lapse from her usual routine that the store provided, together with a chance to revel in the company of someone who didn’t cast judgmental eyes down upon her for a change, miserably rare as the opportunity was.

As they placed their orders, Viktoriya caught someone glancing at her from across the room for a fraction of a second too long to be deemed commendable. She had noticed him on her way into the bar, and not only because he happened to be the only other patron dining at the time: he was dressed much too formally to be simply attending a late breakfast, and his lavish suit emanated an air of affluence that acted as a beacon for signaling that he was not a local. Although the neighborhood was a long way off from being prosperous, news of the coffee shop’s snug atmosphere and great service was far-reaching, and it was not altogether uncommon to find businessmen and other men of power and good standing to frequent the cafe. Humble and "homely" was all the rage these days, apparently.

Something about the manner in which this man had viewed her, however, was familiar to Viktoriya in an entirely different way; she recognized that look, and was in no mood to tolerate any of its lewd suggestions at that exact moment. The richer or more authoritative the individual, the greater his affinity for degradation and condescendence of the utmost degree; this was an association she had established early on in her career. The men seemed to be under the impression that the wealth and influence they exercised during their daily trades extended over the lives of all whose positions they considered somehow inferior to their own -- and Viktoriya had endured her fair share of ill-treatment for the day. She shot him an icy cold glare, her teeth clenched together.

All at once, Aretsuya’s hushed voice broke through the stillness. “What are you looking at ?” the redhead inquired, eyes wide with child-like curiosity. Viktoriya blinked, hurriedly returning her gaze to focus on her friend again before she could follow her stare and trace it back to its source. No matter how long Aretsuya struggled to adjust to her new life in the city, she still harbored insane levels of guilt and regret for her actions, and whenever possible Viktoriya would attempt everything she could to avoid reminding her.

She smiled weakly. “Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw someone I knew outside the window, that’s all. False alarm,” she grinned. Her affectations of optimism seemed to come across as slightly overzealous, given the context, and Aretsuya lofted one brow questioningly. As before, Viktoriya quickly changed the subject. “So, do you have any plans for later ? I heard rumors about some small-time underground concert taking place downtown in the evening, and thought we could maybe go check it out.”

Even as she uttered the words, however, her gaze shifted to fixate once more upon the man, who now appeared to be muttering something directed towards her in a state of confused desperation. A deep frown etched itself across Viktoriya’s forehead, and her face darkened. What the hell is his problem ?

Aretsuya propped herself up against the hardwood chair and slipped a glance towards the dark-haired stranger across from her. Noticing that Viktoriya hadn’t taken her eyes off her, however, she quickly returned her gaze to her platter and fiddled with the silver fork between her thin fingers. She tried busying herself by observing Viktoriya’s slender frame, but something was really irking her at the end of her mind. She shot a fleeting look at the handsome man once again, causing her cheeks to redden and triggering Viktoriya to glare at her sternly.

“What are you looking at ?” she snapped coldly.

“Nothing,” Aretsuya replied, all at once quiet and timid. “Nothing at all.”

Absent-mindedly, Aretsuya played with the contents of her plate, watching in turn first the blonde-haired youth in front of her and then the man who seemed to ... evoke a strange feeling within her. He caught her staring intently and quirked one brow, and she hurriedly looked away, jabbing at a misshapen stick of carrot and blushing profusely. The vegetable tasted like carpeting inside her mouth as she chewed slowly and nonchalantly. She didn’t want him to catch her looking in his direction, nor did she want Viktoriya to notice that she was doing so, although she too had been eyeing the man keenly and was ignoring the food in front of her in the process.

"Why aren't you eating ?" Aretsuya inquired softly, looking down at her own plate. She brushed aside a strand of hair which cascaded down her face and sighed. What was this strange vibe she was getting from the stranger ?

She furrowed her thin brows and returned her attention to the table once more, then forked a piece of … something into her mouth. She certainly didn’t feel hungry, although her body reacted differently; all she could think about was the man she didn’t recognize at all, yet who nonetheless felt so oddly familiar. She didn’t realize what exactly, but there was something she felt from him, something almost emanating. She sighed and stared into the dimly lit closure. “I’m stuffed.”

“You haven’t even touched your food. But, whatever man,” Viktoriya scoffed, but Aretsuya’s focus had already dissipated away from the blonde girl and reassembled elsewhere.

Who is he ? I want to know more about him.
I don’t know, and I’m not planning on finding out, either.
No, ask him. He might be able to help you.
Help me how? He’s just some guy.
But I KNOW there’s something about him. I can feel it.
It’s nothing. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all...

All of a sudden, Viktoriya grabbed hold of her hands from across the table, jolting the redhead forcefully back into reality. Instinctively, Aretsuya tried to pull away.

“What is wrong with you ?!”

She noticed the look of hurt and betrayal weighing down on her friend’s features, but just shrugged it off. “I’m just tired,” she repeated, somewhat guiltily and in a tone that indicated that she herself didn’t entirely belief her words to be true. Ignoring her growing pangs of hunger, Aretsuya stood to her feet and shuffled towards the restroom, and at Viktoriya’s astonished expression simply replied, “I think I need to puke…”

Excusing herself despite her companion’s silent protests, Aretsuya began stepping towards the opposite end of the room, making sure she crossed the stranger's table so as to get a better view of him.

Irtar ate tentatively from the sandwich, more thinking to himself than anything. His mind dancing on the thoughts of the past and why he was here. Why he had traveled so far. Budpock was where the Coalition’s embassy was located in the Commonwealth. It supposedly was a more torn planet, with pirates and the like raising all sorts of Hell. But with the Coalition Embassy and the Commonwealth working together, it became far more business oriented and cleaned up.

Many of the businesses that would do work with the Coalition have some kind of office in Demmit Station.

And as it stood, the Sinsangese needed to get some more business going if they were going to do what they planned to do. They needed parts and otherwise that weren’t available from the factories on Sinsang. They needed materials they didn’t otherwise have.

But Irtar couldn’t help but feel as if something were… off. A tingling along his spine. Every so often, when this feeling struck him he’d look up just to see one of the women at the nearby table turn her gaze away. The pair seemed odd to him. Very… differently dressed.

He never really understood a lot of the fashion of the people in the galaxy. A lot of people just looked… odd. But then again, the same could likely be said of him in the eyes of some of them. The fun of being an ambassador. To try and understand people and build a common ground. He was told he’d be good at the job because Jedi teaching is to try and understand and show patience. Unfortunately, they got a run-away and not a new Leia.

Irtar was still lost in his thoughts when his mind was jolted by some movement. The woman who had been watching him had gotten up and was heading in his direction. He was just going to keep an eye on her. He just felt something… weird about this one. He couldn’t push that annoying tingling feeling, like fingers tapping the synapses along his spine.

He was just going to let her pass, making sure she wasn’t up to anything.

Something was prodding at him that something wasn’t right.

And then she lingered. If for nothing but that moment of lingering; that slowing in her pace and the gaze that she left on him. That gaze she tried to pretend she wasn’t placing on him. Was she sizing him up? Was she another Sith come to fight him? He couldn’t just jump to conclusions. He didn’t want to seem as paranoid as so many others like him had become in this dark time.

“Can I help you….?” Irtar asked, trying to sound as courteous as he could. “I noticed you’ve been watching me. So if there’s anything you’d like, please go ahead.”

"Ouch !"

Aretsuya, true to her usual clumsy nature, stumbled, bashing her knee against the hard metallic table in the process and staggering as a result of her surprise at the man next to her having asked her something. As she tried to raise herself back onto her feet, she accidentally knocked his plate onto his lap and gasped, eyes wide with fear.

What have you done now ?

She could hear his chair scrape away as it slid across the ground, and she knew Viktoriya was no doubt craning her head around to observe the source of all the ruckus. Cheeks red with embarrassment, she quickly busied herself with bustling around the floor in an attempt to clean up the mess.

"It's okay. Really."

At the sound of his voice, she lifted her head, and inadvertently gazed into his eyes for a moment longer than appropriate. Turning bright crimson, she began fumbling with her sentences. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to. I mean, I'll clean it up right now ...” she stammered, more than a little uncomfortably, her self-consciousness only seeming to grow with each passing second. After a moment of awkward silence, she managed to utter a few more words. "Uhm, what's your name, then?"

The question came as a result of curiosity, as well as the fact that she was somehow drawn dangerously towards him, and wanted to know every detail she could grasp hold of about his character. She couldn't quite put her finger onto exactly why she felt that way, and although she knew it was dumb of her to have asked him something like that at the given moment, she just couldn't keep her mouth shut. She just had to find out who he was.

“The waiters will clean it up, you know.”

The redhead slowly stood and dusted off any residual crumbs of sandwich which may have become snared within her frayed clothes.

“And the name’s Irtar.”

“May I have a seat ?” she mumbled.

“Go ahead.”

Shuffling uneasily, she pulled out a stray string from her the cloth of her sleeves and twiddled it around her fingers for a while before finally assuring him that she’d buy him another meal to compensate for his previous one. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I ... Do I know you ? Or perhaps you know me. Have we ever… you know ... ‘met’ ?”

Irtar's first instinct was to jump up and help the stumbling woman, but he instead hit the table. Unfortunately, he knocked it enough off of balance so that when the woman tried to get back up she knocked his sandwich right in his lap. He was kinda happy he already ate most of it, but it still left a wonderful stain of mustard and mayo on his pant leg. Irtar shot back from the table with a groan, he took some napkins and began to try and wipe up the stuff.

He looked over to the woman as he scrubbed at his leg, and saw her face nearly turn as red as her hair. She was trying to gather up all the bits from the broke plate and bits of sandwich on the floor. Irtar took a soft breath. It was only just a pair of pants.

"It's okay." Irtar said, offering a hand to her to help her off the floor. "Really."

He offered her a seat and they began to build the foundation of a conversation. When she asked him if she knew him from somewhere Irtar kinda turned away a moment, a bit of colour coming to his face.

"Heh. Well, you might've seen me on the holovids." Irtar said, a bit of a bashful tone hitting him. "I'm the ambassador for the Coalition in the Raioballo Sector. Sinsangese and Anx and such. Didn't know any of those made their way all the way out here to Budpock but hey! I'm not complaining."

Irtar kinda made an awkward smile and rubbed the back of his head. That old awkwardness kicking back in with the young woman nearby. And the way she was looking at him didn't help either. He couldn't deny she was cute now that he had the chance to look at her up close even if her style of dress was... weird.

"Well, how about you? I'm just here on a business trip. Like... heck, I don't even know your name."

Making swirling motions on the tabletop using the tip of her index finger, Aretsuya eyed her feet frenetically, wishing she could simply crawl inside a miracle little hole and disappear. Why did she have to suggest starting a conversation in the first place ? Just then, Irtar inquired her for her name, prompting her to relax ever so slightly and her blushing cheeks to slowly return to their original pallor. “Aretsuya,” she whispered softly.

“Nice name.”

A small, shaky smile followed. For all the commotion she had caused he was being awfully polite, not appearing even a bit miffed. This man – Irtar – reckoned she may have seen him on the holovid, and yet she could not recall any such encounter. Only a familiar feeling …

Or maybe she’d just forgotten. Wouldn’t be a first.

“Mmm. Ambassador ? Wow.”

Considering the rather abrupt and childish nature of the comment she had just made, Aretsuya was astonished at her ability to still speak in spite of her awkwardness. For one, her throat was dry, and she reluctantly stopped herself from asking for a cool drink to quench her thirst. She had no idea why she remained seated with him.

The waitress passed by and Aretsuya hurriedly muttered an incoherent order for another serving of sandwiches for Irtar, and then passed a trembling smile towards his direction, indicating that she was okay with it.

Do you trust him ?
I don’t even know him. Why should I ?
I think he’s up to something.
Heh, right. And you’re paranoid.

Her eyes skimmed over the man’s countenance for a second, as if attempting to peer straight through him.

Stop staring at him.

She realized just how obvious she was making her ‘glances’ and quickly shifted her gaze, for possibly the umpteenth time. But what if he did in fact turn out to be like all the other men out there she had met up until that point ? Those same ruthless individuals who perpetually desired the feel of skin upon skin, blinded by their insatiable lust. After all, he did shoot a few questionable looks at her. Or maybe it was just because he disapproved of her attire.

She furrowed her eyebrows, dipping her hand into her pocket. “I’ll give you the money then…”

I don’t want to leave him just yet.
What if he tells the others where you are ? What will you do then ?
He’d never remember me.
You never know ! Listen to me, leave now !

“Shut up !”

It took her a prolonged few seconds to acknowledge that she had been talking out loud, only becoming aware of the fact at Irtar’s startled reply. “Huh ?” he offered gawkily, quite obviously stunned.

“No no no !” she protested, finally having processed the extent of her actions. “I’m sorry ! I wasn’t talking to you !”

She must’ve sounded like a nutcase. Then again, she was reputed for often doing similar things without even being fully conscious of them; she knew only of their repercussions. Her clients usually lost interest in her that way. It was an effective way of protecting herself, but came with a hefty price to pay: no salary, and a continual state of near-poverty. Most merely dismissed her as a lunatic. Hah, like they knew her enough to talk.

But her grandfather … well, he had been different. He’d often sat with her, trimming away the overly long stems of fragrant flowers and ridding them of their wilted leaves, as she sniffed in their aromas and watched him go about his work, admiring his fast working hands and the wise words he never seemed to be in short supply of.

“Don’t listen to them,” he’d say, rather matter-of-factly. “You’re very special, and one day they’ll regret ever having doubted you.” He would assure her that she had no issues like the others suggested; if anything, she was gifted.

Viktoriya was the only other person who for some reason never took care to notice any of this peculiar behavior. Or maybe she chose to ignore it all. How creepy Aretsuya must have appeared.

So what about this particular onlooker ? Would he also deduce that she was a weirdo, indecent and filthy ? Or had her silence irked him?

“Is anything the matter ?”

Snapping back into reality, Aretsuya felt the physical pains of hunger once more as her stomach growled audibly.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just feeling a bit drowsy.”

“Have you eaten yet ?”

And, as if on call, the waitress made her comeback with a large platter of white-bread sandwiches, the smell wafting through into her nostrils.

“No. But I guess I’m really thirsty.”

“I’ll buy you a drink.”

Before she could object, he’d already placed the order, waving off her futile attempts as she stuttered about how she would get one herself, but to no avail. Great; now she had indirectly hinted at him buying her a drink. [i]How much more of an idiot are you going to make of yourself, Aretsuya ?[i/] Somehow, she had the sinking suspicion that the situation was about to spiral only further downwards.

What a pair they had to be.

Aretsuya seemed to be nearly as nervous as he was.

Irtar worked as hard as he could to remember his public speaking lessons. But alas, a faceless crowd was not a woman at your side. And he was blessed in some ways that in his heart he’d always be Irtar Mal’Gro at heart. Though with dealing up close and personal with any of the opposite sex it often served as a curse.

The conversation continued its broken pace until all of a sudden she yelled at him to shut up. Irtar was taken aback for a moment. She quickly apologized and said it wasn’t him but who else could it be? Irtar kinda slumped a bit. He had probably gone rambling again. Probably drove her patience to the end and only afterwards she realized her manners.

The pair went silent for a time as Irtar sat there nervously as Aretsuya stared away, off into space. It took some time sitting nervously before he got the courage as to speak up. He asked if there was anything wrong and got a simply reply of thirst and decided to push his luck.

“Really, think nothing of it. You’ve earned at least a drink for putting up with a guy like me.” Irtar said with a feigned half-laugh of sorts. “And there’s no fun talking with a parched throat right?”

“Heck, if you haven’t really eaten either I’ve no problem sharing a sandwhich. I was nearly done my other one anyways and I couldn’t eat another plate of them alone.” Irtar said with a kinda half smile.

His palms felt like puddles. And there was that damn feeling as she passed her eyes over him again. It wasn’t like when a girl normally looked at him. He knew that feeling and he felt that there in the background there, but this was something… different. Familiar but he couldn’t place it.

“But yeah… are you from around here? I’m from Dantooine. Lovely farm outside of a little town called Druham. Not much there but an Imperial Outpost for the planet now, but still. Sometimes I miss the place, especially in dank cities like this. No offense meant. But y’know, there’s a lot of times I miss playing around in the fields and pretending a Grauler was about to charge out of nowhere. Nasty things, but thankfully our farm was far from their hunting territories. And… I’m ranting. Sorry….” Irtar muttered, coming to a slow halt.

He just kinda sat there in silence, letting Aretsyua take back the initiative if she wanted, himself personally embarrassed about how first he got her yelling at him to shut up and she was probably ready to do so again.

Maybe he should just suggest she rejoin her friend and they can both go on in peace?