Episode 1: Another Day, Another Train...
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"Hey there."
"Ervmfgh."
"Huh. That's a way to greet a girl."
Opening an eye, the balding man drifted a side-ward pupil. Confirmed the presence of said girl. Nodded chin. "Nice to meet you," shutting both eyelids not a wasteful breath later.
Cozy, snug dream-land, here we com- "Ow!"
What the?
At his side, the girl was withdrawing her hand from it. A squint folded the man's eyes into scorching slits. "What was that for? What, are you crazy? I'm trying to sleep here!"
"No, I'm not."
"Well," he dryly catapulted back upon realizing she was decrying his accusation of her mental faculties, "in that case, I'm sure, being two civil adults, that we are fully capable of respecting each other as nothing less." With a smile as genuine as a desert oasis displaying a tad too much shimmer, he presented the proposition. "Can I sleep, while you, a fellow, clearly functional adult, get the grand privilege of acting the part?"
The girl scrunched a nose, looked straight ahead, then back at the man with a diffident shrug. "I didn't do anything."
His scoff at the hazel curls resting daintily along her shoulder could've ignited a torch. "You jabbed me. You jabbed me!" Just for good measure, he pointed at where the jab occurred. Maybe she was a visual learner, maybe she was just an idiot. Still, never hurt to hope for the best in people.
Alas. Though her eyes were looking, and though they did seem to convey something beyond a drugged street prowler riding the public transit smack dab in the waning twee of evening - she only looked back up with an unremarkable flatness before flashing, along with a white eyed flicker of her lips, a sandal.
A sandal?
The man coiled, quickly wondering with great, if subdued, trepidation what was to follow. "See this?" The slab of footwear was clasped tightly but casually in her delicate-looking hand, insoles facing him.
"Yes?"
"This is what I," finger quotes, "'jabbed' you with." The co-bus rider twirled the sandal around her finger by the strap, a small smile forming in the corner of her mouth. What exactly was her game here?
"Okay."
"Which means," curly-haired girl leaned in all conspiratorial like, "I'm barefoot on one-half of my two lower extremities." A shameless pulsation seemed to ripple through her face and eyes, and the man recognized it instantly. Impishness. Girly impishness, the kind that sparked between attractor and attractee. Lover and lover two. Seducted, and seductress.