The following Saturday evening, he met Elle for coffee downtown. On instinct, he checked the auras of the folk gathered in the coffee shop. Among the myriad of colors representing other details, all he could see was dull grey emanating from the breasts of the customers occupying the building. Except for Elle, of course, who sat across from him.
The pair sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, reveling in their drinks. Elle, however, was the one who spoke first.
"So. Any luck?" Elle asked right before taking another sip of her black coffee.
"With?" Edgar was still exhausted after spending most of his day cleaning up Barnabus's storeroom.
"Finding a girl to get betrayal from, dumbass."
"Oh!" How could he have even forgot about that? "I've had god awful luck. Trying to get a girl's number is like trying to rob fill a strainer." He paused to take a sip of his mocha frappe. "Barry says its because I'm about as smooth as sandpaper, and as pretty as a gorgon."
"Wow. Harsh." Elle quietly chuckled. "And I've no clue how 'smooth' you are, but you're not ugly."
Her words took him a bit by surprise. "Huh. And here I thought you weren't capable of being nice."
"If you struggle to accept a compliment, how are you supposed to give one? No wonder you can't pick up a girl, Ed." She flashed him a wicked smirk, taking another sip of her coffee. Edgar couldn't help but to roll his eyes at her cheap fortune cookie wisdom.
"I can compliment a woman, Elle." Just as Edgar szid that, he spotted a particular mischevious glint in her eyes. He found himself mildly worried about what she was about to say next.
"Okay then, Ed. Compliment me."
Edgar froze, staring at her incredulously. It took him a moment to realize that she was actually being serious. Not being one to turn down a challenge, Edgar leaned back and obser4ved her. Like, really observed her. She was gorgeous, sure, but he didn't want to just compliment her on how she looked. That was too basic, and she was sure to point that out to him.
He sat there for almost a minute, trying to brainstorm what he could possibly say to her that would meet her standards. Who was Elle? Asking himself that, found that he didn't know many personal details about her. She was cool, collected, and constantly wore a poker face. Edgar couldn't recall a time in their two-year friendship where she sat down and actually opened up to him. Where as, she actually knew everything about him. Even his secret of being a halfling...
"You're like the deep ocean," Edgar concluded. He leaned forward in his seat, leaning on his elbows against the table. He watched as several micro expressions flickered across her face. He didn't need to read her aura to get the idea that he surprised her.
"And how am I like the deep ocean, Ed?" The simple fact that she was curious was either going to be a superb thing, or it was aboujt to go far south really fast for him. He'd better choose his words carefully...
"Well..." He drawled the word out for a brief second, taking that precious sliver of time to sort out what he was going to say next. "Because on the surface, you're just an endless expanse of blue. But below the surface, I guarantee there's an endless amount of beauty to explore." After saying it, Edgar felt his cheeks darkening. It sounded way better in his head, and now that it was actually out on the table, he was reconsidering his word choice now. It sounded stupid and corny.
Nor could he tell how Elle felt about it. She still had a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she took a long drink from her coffee. Every millisecond she didn't answer, Edgar felt himself dying a little bit on the inside from sheer embarrassment.
"Perhaps your complimenting skills could use a little work, Ed. But At least you weren't a basic bitch about it and said I had pretty eyes or something like that." She took another sip of her coffee before continuing. "With more effort, and perhaps a bit more knowledge of your quarry, I'm sure you'll flatter her straight into your bed."
"And whose fault is it that I know little about you, Elle?" He was merely joking, but she must've taken him seriously anyways.
"Mine, of course. And it's intentional, trust me. You should know better than anyone that emotional attachments for people like us are dangerous." Elle shot him a pointed look. It was as though she were reiterating a basic concept to a child. That grated his nerves a bit, but he knew it would do no good to argue with the woman.
"Yes, Elle. I know that very well." He took a sip of his frappe. "But you know why I avoid them."
"Yet it's based entirely on the chance that you will be found by demons again. You don't even give yourself a chance." Her smirk faded away. She was being completely serious now, as she stared him down with a pair of dull emerald eyes.
"I did give myself a chance. In college. You know how that went." Edgar held her stare, despite how uncomfortable it made him. He felt that she was challenging him somehow, and he felt the urge to meet her challenge.
"Yes. You gave up with barely a fight. And now you've found yourself working for a bunch of criminals." Her chilled expression was unwavering. She hardly even blinked... Or maybe she has been blinking, and maybe he didn't notice it. He glanced down at his frappe, watching the ice bob gently up and down in the tan liquid. He couldn't hold her stare anymore. It was too intense.
"But at least I can live in relative peace," he muttered.
Before she could offer him a response, her phone started buzzing on the table next to her coffee. He shot a glance at the device, noting it was someone calling her from an unknown number.
"I've got to take this, Edgar. I'll be back." She took up her phone, and quickly marched outside the coffee shop.
He watched her walk just outside the shop, standing in front of the large window with the logo of the shop painted on the window. It was some vector-esqu coffee cup with swirls inside. Squinting his eyes, he switched over to his aura sight. Colors flooded his vision, but he ignored them, focusing on Elle's.
He focused on the color emanating from her head, which usually indicated mood. It was a lighter grey color, which suggested the individual was usually very nervous or anxious. Fringing the lighter grey, was darker greys and goldish rays. These two colors also suggested she was unsettled and tense. Even though an aura was much more reliable than reading expressions, there was no way to completely confirm what the colors meant without taking into account other signs. And, well, Elle showed no signs. She kept an eerily neutral expression, just like she always does.
Suddenly, the greys and gold hints melted away and was replaces with deep blue rays fringed with black. Edgar frowned, knowing those two colors together usually suggested the individual was feeling a great amount of woe. Edgar felt worry nagging at the back of his mind, wondering what was actually happening during that phone call.
Eventually, Elle's call ended, and she marched back into the shop. Blinking away his aura sight, he glanced up at her with his eyebrows knit together. She didn't sit back down.
"I've got to go, Ed. We'll chat another time, okay?" Before she could escape, he reached out and grabbed her wrist.
"Wait. Elle. Is everything alright?" She glanced back at him with narrowed eyes, glaring daggers. He immediately released her, else she might stab him with an actual dagger.
"You used your aura sight on me? Seriously?" He contemplated lying for a split second, but decided against it. There was no other way he'd have probable cause to be worried.
"I did."
She sighed, turning away. "I can't believe you, sometimes..." And then she marched off, leaving behind a disheartened Edgar. He watched her as she sped past the window, and out of his sight, wondering what he even did wrong. It wasn't like he eavesdropped on her conversation. Was it so wrong to be worried for a friend?
Edgar finished off his frappe in silence, staring out at the sleepless city of New York. He listened to the unfamiliar hip hop song playing as background ambience of the shop, trying to think of a reasonable explanation behind Elle. Why was she the way she was? And what had her so worked up? He couldn't think of any answers, of course. There was no way to put the pieces together. At least only when he had a few pieces of the puzzle.
He was just about to get up and leave when the door to the coffee shop violently burst open. Screams erupted from around the shop as the occupants stood up and started running around frantically. Edgar jumped to his feet, hardly believing what he was seeing.
Entering the shop, was a hulking furry creature, possessing the head of a wolf. It's muscular mass rippled, and it's ebony fur glinted harshly in the golden light of the shop. Saliva dripped from it's lip as it frantically looked around, searching for a target. In the same second, Edgar watched as it's beady eyes zoned in on a poor, little old lady who was trying knocked over in the chaos. Without an ounce of hesitation, Edgar watched in half disgust, half terror as the werewolf dove onto her, tearing her chest cavity open.
Edgar froze, unsure of his next actions. To fly, or to fight?
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