The same brandish of locks that same symbolic hue for irises and that signature smile. Liz frowned while she gulped down the cup of milk, he offered to her. Liz raised her eyebrows slightly, lowered her eyelids and pouted her lips slightly looking very intriguingly entitled like the nobles from her past. The man chuckled at the sight, he found her interesting, acting all poised and mannered. When in reality, she just looks funny-looking.
Liz didn't take his laugh well and she rolled her eyes at him instead. Atleast, inside her head. It's not herself to act impolite at a stranger , especially to someone who is generous enough to let a stranger in their house and give them food. Even though that stranger seems to be someone he thought he knows.
"Could you tell me, where your napkins are?" ,Liz politely asked him.
" Napkins", His brows scrunched, a bit bewildered. When he realized, " OHhh, napkins!"
He pointed to the kitchen counter and Liz found them slightly adjacent from her seat. His place was like a rented apartment.
A rented apartment..? Liz felt confused for the first time in her life.
While wiping her lips then, throwing them away , Liz heard him say.
" It's a bit small , isn't it?", the young fruit merchant suddenly asked.
Liz was stunned out of her thoughts and felt a little dazzled, her fingers paused , criss-crossed inches from her face. While, she repeated it in her head...what, "What?", she asked. Trying to confirm something. What are you asking?
" My house, it's small. Isn't it?", he tactfully repeated his question. His eyes watching her expression carefully as Liz finally lost it . Her previous composure replaced with widened eyes looking at the bright flickering lights at the ceiling.
After a while, she sat down. Had her chin up, her hands clasped infront of her , resting on the table. Meanwhile, her eyes searched him carefully.
In response, a playful smile hung on his face as he opted the same thing Liz did but more relaxed. Liz seriously doubted her ears but she knew what she heard and, recounted it clearly.
"Does this world have a completely different idea of etiquette? Of what manners even are? Is this really how they speak to each other? Is this normal? Is this what small talk has become now? Is this how people connect here?" Her thoughts spiraled, one question colliding with the next, she felt a whirlwind of disbelief.
I mean, why does it matter if your house is small, big or even clean to your guests? Even if it is, A guest who visited for the very first time doesn't have an opinion in it.What happened to " this is my house and I make the rules".
It is basic etiquette to be polite if your visiting for the first few times, right?
Especially, the way he asked it, Liz crashed. Her smile faltering, she tried her best to keep her composure but under the young man's eyes everything was all for naught.
...
" Thanks for the meal", Liz thanked the man one more time at the doorstep. She didn't notice his gaze.
As the man's gaze bore into her, the girl's expression shifted from indifference to mild annoyance. She raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking up to meet his, and for a moment, they locked gazes. The man's eyes, burning with intensity, seemed to bore into her soul, but the girl's expression remained unyielding.
She thought he was being weird, staring at her like that. Didn't he know it was creepy? She shifted her weight, her eyes never leaving his, and her voice took on a slightly sarcastic tone. "Can I help you with something?" she asked, her words dripping with polite disdain.
The man, however, seemed oblivious to her discomfort. His gaze never wavered, his eyes drinking in the sight of her as if she were a ghost from his past. The girl's annoyance deepened, but she didn't back down, her eyes flashing with a mixture of irritation and curiosity. What was wrong with this guy?
Her small stature filled his vision merged with a distant past. Her voice lingered in his ears and he watched her wave and leave. He didn't wave back.
...
When she left , her little footsole taps echoed through the alleyway, the sound growing fainter with each passing moment. The man's eyes, still fixed on the spot where she had stood, seemed to burn with an inner fire, as if trying to sear the memory of her into his mind.
The alleyway, once a deserted, forgotten space, now seemed to stretch out before him like a vast, empty canvas. The walls, a dull, faded red, seemed to close in around him, casting long shadows that stretched and twisted in the fading light.
But beyond the alleyway, the sounds of laughter and music drifted through the air, a stark contrast to the desolate atmosphere that surrounded him. The festival on Main Street was in full swing, its vibrant colors and joyful sounds a jarring juxtaposition to the bleak, forgotten world of the alleyway.
The man's gaze slowly dropped, his eyes coming to rest on the ground beneath his feet. The pavement, cracked and worn, seemed to stretch out before him like a path, leading him deeper into the darkness of his own mind.
As he stood there, his shoulders slumped, his chest rose and fell with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His hands, tucked deep into his pockets, seemed to be clenched into fists, as if grasping for something that was slipping away from him.
A faint, wistful smile played on his lips, a smile that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words. His eyes, cast downward, seemed to be studying the ground beneath his feet, but his gaze was distant, his mind a thousand miles away.
As the sounds of the festival grew fainter, the man's smile seemed to falter, his lips curling downward into a faint, despairing line. His eyes, still cast downward, seemed to be drinking in the darkness, as if trying to fill the emptiness that had grown inside him.
He took a pack of cigars and lit them against the dim litted alleyway. The burning sensation filled his lungs as he inhaled that small roll of dried up weeds. A small rough thing that might look harmless but, truly, it might be more dangerous than you think. He took a huff willingly and let it burn while smoke puffed from his mouth.
And then, without warning, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the alleyway, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of his presence.