Rhia hadn't noticed the boy until Saskia had pointed him out to her. "Don't look," she had said, "but I think that boy at table 9 is staring at you."
Rhia, of course, looked. And stared. She wondered how she hadn't noticed him before. Everyone else surely had. He just had that air about him that drew everyone's eyes to him. She noticed that there was a dark-haired girl sitting with him at the table, but Rhia barely saw her.
The boy was lounging in a chair, his booted feet up on the table, like the steel-backed chairs at the cafe weren't the most uncomfortable things in the world. He wore all black, with silver buckles and buttons on his assorted clothing. He was a picture of monochrome, with paper-white hair and skin and obsidian eyes.
When Rhia noticed his eyes, it was all she saw. She suddenly felt a dull burning in the pit of her stomach, like she had swallowed hot coals. She tried to bite back a scream and was only half successful. It came out as a sort of yelp and a gasp at the same time. She felt Victor's and on her shoulder, knew that he was speaking to her, but she couldn't hear him over the ringing in her ears, and she couldn't bring herself to care. All the existed was her and the boy and the feeling of painful burning, threatening to swallow her up in darkness.
And the boy felt it too. She could tell. Although he was doing an exceptional job of hiding it. She guessed he wasn't one to show pain.
Then all at once, it was over. It was like the rest of the world started existing again with a snap, and the ringing in her ears subsided.
"...wrong, Rhia?" It was Victor. He was sitting next to her, holding one of her hands in his. His face was creased with worry, His blue eyes looking her over as if to check for damage.
"I'm fine," Rhia snapped and pulled her hand out of his grasp. A look of hurt flashed across his face, and she felt instantly guilty. "I'm fine, Vic," she said again, her voice softer this time. "I'm sorry if..."
She wanted to say more, but she lost all train of thought as she saw the white-haired boy at table 9 smirk at her and push himself off his chair in a single graceful movement. He moved with a certain languid precision, like his elegance came naturally to him. Watching him was like watching a cat, she realized.
It was only then that she saw how tall he really was. When he had been sitting, she hadn't been able to grasp it. But now she realized. He was at least 6 foot 2, with slim shoulders and hips and long legs. He wasn't gangly like Victor, not awkward as if he hadn't grown into himself yet. Not clumsy, like she was, always falling over her own feet. She found herself envying his ease with which he moved.
Then she realized he was walking towards her table. Alone. The dark-haired girl he had been sitting with earlier was nowhere in sight. How could she not have noticed her leaving? And she realized she was staring. Quickly, she looked down at her cup of coffee and uneaten piece of birthday cake. She felt her face burning.
She only looked up when she felt his presence beside her, and saw his shadow fall over the table in front of her. A certain cold feel surrounded him, like a northern breeze, and she suppressed a shiver. It made her think of ice and snow and freezing water and drowning.
He just stood over her, not saying anything for a few moments too long. She knew it was only a few seconds, but to her it felt like eternity. The only movement he made in that time was to clench and unclench his fists. Then finally, he spoke. "Rhia Parker," he said. His voice was low and sonorous, and in just those four syllables was all the feeling in the world. He hadn't spoken loudly, but he might as well have screamed it at the top of his lungs for all the affect it had on Rhia. Unconsciously, she flinched away from him. There was something about him that told her he would stab a man in the back and smile as he fell.
"Um, excuse me," Victor said, quite rudely. "Who are you?"
He smiled that smile, all white teeth. She half expected them to have sharp points. "I'm Abel Strongborn." He offered his hand out to Rhia, as if it had been her who had asked. She didn't take it.
"How do you know my name?" she asked instead.
He snorted. "How could I not? I imagine everyone else in this lot knows by now, since these two," he gestured towards Saskia and Victor, "have advertised it across the entire room."
It was true. The entire cafe was covered with banners and streamers, most of them announcing that today was Rhia Parker's birthday.
"Okay, point taken," Victor said. "What do you want?"
A grin split his face. It reminded Rhia of a sculpture her father had once made, a sculpture of a snarling wolf. "Her," he said simply, and lifted his face, jerking his chin in Rhia's direction.
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