Faeling

Merritt turned fully toward the girl this time, causing her head to come up in shock as he choked a bit on his latte. He sputtered for a moment, coughing as her elegant hand came up to pat him on the back. Her hands were really the only elegant thing about her, he thought disjointedly, still gasping.

“Are you alright?” Concern shone in her green-flecked eyes.

He coughed and cleared his throat, trying to maintain some dignity. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” He blinked back the tears in his eyes. This was so unlike him. He took another sip of latte, this time swallowing it successfully. He looked at her again. “Thanks.” This time he said it with what he knew was a brilliant, heart-melting, knee-weakening smile.

She didn’t seem to notice. “No problem.”

His smile faltered. “My name’s Merritt,” he said suavely, holding out a hand. “I appreciate you saving my life.”

She gave a laugh that sounded a bit more like a huff and shook his hand quickly. “I’m Oz, glad to save your life.”

“Oz?” He said, holding her hand in his and leaning a bit closer. “That’s an interesting name.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at him as if she wasn’t quite certain what he was doing. “Your name isn’t all that typical either, if you don’t mind me saying so.” She wrenched her hand from his grip.

“It’s an old family name, passed down in my family for generations.” He smiled disarmingly at her. “Yours?” His smiles worked on everyone. Merritt didn’t bother smiling unless he needed something.

She rolled her eyes at his persistence and admitted, “It’s a Hebrew name. It means strength and courage.”

“Ah,” he mused, “you learn something new every day.” He turned his attention to the real question he’d wanted to ask. “What’s that?” He pointed to the Celtic knot and eye in the sketchbook. He prayed that she couldn’t hear his heart throwing itself against his ribs.

“Oh,” she shrugged, running a finger over the page, “it’s just something I draw. A bit like a signature, I suppose.”

He looked into her eyes critically. She was being honest, he decided.

“Where did you see it?” He nearly cringed at the way it came out. Instead he gave her another bright white smile.

“Uhm,” she shook her head slightly, his prodding confusing her a bit, “I don’t know.” She stood up suddenly. “I should go, it’s stopped raining.”

Surprised, he looked out the window. She was right.

She stuffed her sketchpad and pencil in her messenger bag and buttoned her jacket—her ugly, ugly jacket. She gave him a polite—if wary—smile and said, “Nice to meet you, Merritt,” before turning and walking straight out the door.

Merritt jumped up and slung on his trench coat, snatched his briefcase and ran out the door, jangling the bell as he went.

“Oz!” He shouted. “Wait!”

She turned, crossing her arms suspiciously. “Yes?”

“I was wondering,” he panted, “if you’d like to go out to dinner sometime.” He flashed another gorgeous smile to make up for the fact that he was rather making a fool of himself.

She eyed him, taking in his lightly muscled frame, brown hair, sea-green eyes (which he’d heard were positively irresistible) and perfect teeth. She took a step towards him, looking up a few inches into his face.

“Why?”

“Huh?” That was one reaction Merritt hadn’t been expecting. He’d gotten squeals of joy and smiles that took up a woman’s entire face and even a kiss or two, but he’d never been asked why.

“I asked why.” She looked at him steadily.

“I- because- I- uh... I want to take you on a date.” Why couldn’t he get a handle on her? Usually the minute he saw someone’s eyes, he knew exactly what to say to make them do what he wanted. It must be part of her skill, he decided.

She stared into his face for another moment, studying him. “No, thanks,” she said simply, and did an about-face.

Merritt was flabbergasted. He couldn’t remember ever being turned down by a woman—or by most men, for that matter—for anything, much less a date.

“Wait! Why not?!” He yelled after her, his long legs helping him catch up despite her fast pace. His confusion had the upper-hand on his cool, charming nature.

“Ugh, go away.”

“What?! What did I do to offend you so?”

She turned back to him again on the empty street. “Look,” she said. “This game wasn’t funny when I was twelve and it isn’t funny now. You obviously know how attractive you are,” He gave a smug smirk that she rolled her eyes at before plowing on. “And I know how attractive I am not. There’s no way you actually want to go on a date with me, so just leave me alone. I’m not buying what you’re selling, so please stop following me.”

He opened and closed his mouth, completely blindsided. “I- but... I think you’re attractive,” he lied smoothly. It wasn’t the biggest lie he’d ever told.

She raised one eyebrow. “Bullshit,” she said simply. She didn’t even seem angry, just annoyed. “Leave me alone.” She turned to walk away.

“Stop!” He begged as he quickly racked his mind, trying to decide how to get her to talk to him. He’d just have to break the rules a little bit. “So I, for fear of trust, forget to say / The perfect ceremony of love’s rite / And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,” he recited. There was recognition in her eyes. “I’m a friend of David’s too,” he said significantly.

She wrinkled her nose. The recognition was gone. “David? You mean David from Damn Fine? What the hell? Why are you reciting Shakespearean sonnets and what does that have to do with David?” She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. “I have mace, you know.”

His mouth fell open. She was a human.