annaleighxcarmichael:
Sports had never really drawn her attention, much preferring to spend her time either outside exploring her surroundings or inside using books to attempt to quench her curiosity, occasionally the two aligned themselves and those had always been her favourite days. Screens had never really been her focus although she doubted that she would have found anything to complain about should she had been able to watch a match of something live. There was some passing interest paid to the national team in some sports but hockey wasnāt something that she could even blag being a casual watcher of.Ā
A sheepish smile tugs at her lips, a rare break in her confidence even if it was a strategic one hoping that it might make him that little bit more sympathetic towards her. Still, the words she speaks are dry unable to stop herself from allowing a little bit of dry humour to tinge her tone. āThat obvious, huh?ā A loose strand of hair is tucked behind her ear, gaze lifting to the screen once more.Ā āStill, keeping my fingers crossed canāt do much harm.ā
Silence wasnāt something all that unusual to her when she was more than a little used to spending most of her days in her own company - she supposed that came with the territory of being both the girl with the obsession and the girl who sees things that donāt exist. But the silence that they sat in as she waited to see whether he would even answer her first question was an uncomfortable if only because she had a feeling that he could be more than a little useful.
But then he does speak and itās more than enough, even with no surname given the brunette figures it to be distinctive enough that she might be able to track him down should she have any more questions for him than those he would be prepared to answer today. A pleased smile takes over her features and she does her best to make sure itās not too triumphant. āA pleasure to meet you, Nero.ā
Taking a breath she prepared her speech, careful not to sound too enthusiastic about it when her passion had been known to intimidate other at times. āThereās been a few disappearances downtown and somehow the MO just doesnāt quite match up with something that makes sense. The police seem to have given up trying to solve them but I just canāt help but feel as though thereās something more to them that everyone is missing.ā
āIs that something you know anything about? Or rather if you did something youād be prepared to talk to me about?ā
Thereās a second of petty annoyance, just for the smile on her face when he gives up his name. As if itās a game and sheās winning, and itās not a feeling he enjoys no matter whoās on the other side. Still, he bites his tongue because itās too late to lie or take it back, and then it simply doesnāt matter anymore.
Nero stills for a split second, more surprise in that slight motion than heād really like to portray. Nothing else changes, he keeps his face still, but he canāt help the way his eyes flick to her, studying her a little more intently than he was a moment ago. Suddenly the game matters less, his twenty dollars a thing already forgotten, when it feels like his back is pressing up against the wall instead of the back of the chair.
He knows what sheās talking about. He also knows itās nothing he wants to get dragged into. Thereās the dark magic he dabbles in, and then thereās the kind that has people disappearing, and heād rather keep himself on his own side of the line. Where he can pretend that thereās anything left of his soul to keep intact. And if sheās telling the truth about who she is and what she wants, then the same goes for her. The doors sheās knocking at arenāt supposed to be opened, and if they are, he imagines no one will ever see her come back out again.
It might warrant a warning. Self-preservation wonāt allow him to give her even that much.
āWhy are you asking me? Do I just look that much like a criminal to you?āĀ Itās easy to let an all too honest note of irritation color the question. A baited, defensive thing, like that might distract from the fact that he doesnāt give her a straight answer.
Itās followed by a shake of his head, tossing back a quick swallow of the beer heād half forgotten before looking away again. A clear, dismissal, though it seems like too much to hope that sheāll just take the hint. āSorry. Canāt help you.ā












