Getting an Inn
“Uh, hi.” Fuck. No fillers. “Hello! I’m getting a table for two, but I’m waiting for the other person in my party to make it.”
“I’ll sit you down when you’re ready then,” the host replies.
Right. I take a spot to the side in case anyone else wants their table. Hanna will be here… Did she receive a photo of me? I don’t remember taking one, so—I gotta find her.
“Strange question, but are you the pretty girl in a black dress who happens to be called Catarina?“ Someone sweeps around from behind me. Hanna.
There goes not jumping like a fool. At least her giggling is probably a good sign.
“Yes. You—Hanna?”
“I am.” She leans against me, close and intimate, with eyes blazing red. “I already grabbed our table. You ready to come with me?”
“Sure.”
She grabs my hand and pulls me to her booth. Confident. Brazen. “I don’t have a lot of free time, so I hope you don’t mind if I’m to the point.”
“No, not at all.”
I’m lying. Her touch is invasive. She’s closer than I can take. Her breath tickles my skin, and I barely know her.
With one hand around my neck, she peruses through the menu. “I love this place, you know. Get their chips. They’re Myaet style.”
“Okay, sure.” Technically not filler words.
Deep breaths. I’m going to need to be comfortable with this if we’re getting closer. This is how I earn the Ring’s blessing, and its magic.
My mouth lingers, waiting for something to reply to—but she doesn’t give me any invitations to speak, and I don’t know where to start. There’s an opportunity from the server to speak up enough for what she told me to get; it doesn’t turn into anything more.
I struggle to make myself ask, “were you the one who suggested we go here?”
She scoffs with a giggle. “I didn’t try hiding it from you.”
“I guess. You seemed familiar.”
“I came here to explore you, not the scenery.” She winks. “Glad you didn’t pick my brother; he doesn’t have the dexterity to spin a lid off an apple jar.”
“Is it… bad if he can’t?”
“Aw, you don’t either. Poor thing, I’ll take care of you.” She kisses my cheek.
I gently rub the memory of her kiss off my skin. “Are you always so… forward?”
“Are you always such a cute ball of questions? You paid me to be forward, and I will. Do you want another one on your lips? What’s the point in waiting for your magic?”
One kiss. It’s just enough intimacy to link us as patron and consort for probably a day at least. But there’s a deathly spike in my heart at the thought of touching this stranger so closely.
“No—not yet. I think. Chips first.”
She arches her eyebrows. “I’ll accommodate you however you wish.”
“Thanks, can you just… I’m sorry. This is really fast for me. Do you have to be touching me?”
She grows an apologetic look and takes herself off me, pushing into the corner. “No, no. That’s not a problem. I assumed—It’s my bad. I just get used to men and women who are… desperate.”
I share some laughter with her to try and make it less awkward.
“I’m mostly playing a character, y’know?”
“I can understand. I’m just a bit nervous.”
“That’s fine.” She smiles. “You paid in advance, so I’ll do as little as you ask.”
“Thanks.” I drop my arms to my lap. “Was the chips thing part of the character too?”
“Not at all! They’re great. You gotta trust me on this.”
It’s cute seeing her beam. I just wish that jump to seeing her romantically, or at least sexually, was a bit easier.
She whispers, “so, is it really your first time?”
“Yeah.”
“Not even with another consort?”
“I don’t know. All my friends are Ringborn, and they’re a bit exclusive with how they pick.”
She tosses her head back. “How are all your friends Ringborn? Most of mine are consorts, and I’m a Ringborn myself!”
“I met one Ringborn, Lucia, and she just started passing me around her Ringborn friends. And while they do have consorts for friends, they tend to be mostly men.”
“It’s only women with you, is it?” She props her arm on the table and leans her cheek into it.
“I’m—Just. Particular! There’s some men I like.”
“Like in what way?”
I can’t believe I’m saying this. “…He was wearing a dress.”
“So”—she confidently brushes the shoulders of her own dress—“if it were me versus any man, but we were both wearing this dress, would you know who to choose?”
“Well—I mean… Obviously women look better when in the same conditions, but I could begin to consider a guy. I wouldn’t pick him over any women I can think of, but I could like…”
“Maybe I’m wrong, but I think you’re just gay.”
“...Were we talking about sexuality?”
She bursts out laughing. “You would only consider being friends with a guy on the condition he wears a dress?”
“That’s not unfair! I can have preferences.”
“I know. I know. And I approve.” She flexes out her hands. “I’m glad I’m a woman then; it’d be a shame if you lost interest in me tonight.”
I stare at her for long enough to feel stupid. “Oh.”
“Are you… still up for our night ending that way?”
I rest my hand on my chest to feel my roaring heartbeat. Painful. Stressed. “It’s kind of paralyzing thinking about that. I… think I would enjoy the date more if I thought it wasn’t happening yet.”
She pulls out a piece of paper, writes on it, and slides it over. “Either way, it would be a shame not to get a second date from such a cute woman.”
“I would like that. I’m going ghoul hunting next week, but after?”
Her eyes pick up suddenly. “You’re going ghoul hunting?”
“My friend, Lucia, she’s hosting it.”
“You should maybe consider inviting your friend who’s a practicing doctor,” she nonchalantly offers.
“Sure! If she says yes, it would be fun.”
”A lot of fun—Wait, shut up. Chips are here.”