Chapter 573: Splitting Ways
I decided to wait outside the premises for her, loitering, strutting about the floor back in my Chester garments... kinda challenging keeping a normal conversation sweating inside army overalls while also clashing with the shouts and gunfire of troops fighting their own battles.
Not many folks window-shopping this far deep and high into the complex, so spotting her wasn’t much of a problem... not that it would have been regardless – even if you tried plopping her down into a bustling sea of millions.
With her presence, with her appearance – just downright impossible. I’m not sure if her aphrodisiac charm played any part in it, but even something as frivolous as her walk cycle, you just can’t tear your eyes off...
And right then, I was getting an explicit demonstration of that bizarre phenomenon, watching her as she crept ever closer towards me.
Her expression was a total blank slate. But I knew the deader the gaze, the livelier she actually felt inside – and if that robotic stare was anything to go by, I wager to guess she was verging on a complete system error anytime now.
I spoke first, spotting something white scrunched inside of her grip. “Whatcha got there?”
Irene then unclenched her fist, revealing two narrow slips of paper fluttering lightly in her palm. “Dinner coupons. Restaurant on the third floor, Italian I think...” She explained. “The prize for the winning team.”
.....
“Cool. That’s pretty cool of them.”
“Cool, yes, well, there you go,” a little stiffly, she shoved the coupons into one of my many, many pockets before stepping back again. “Congratulations.”
“Ah, that’s right – it was Charlie Platoon that won, wasn’t it?” I glanced at her again, glimpsing a little color on her cheeks. “Didn’t realize we had a covert member over at Bravo... seriously, your undercover skills are really something else, y’know? Had me fooled from the start.”
Her eyes sharply veered away from mine, opting to scour the wide, vast empty floor all around us instead. “Where did the three – ?”
“Gone, said bye-bye,” I quickly answered, leaning myself back over into her sights. “Why’d you throw the game?”
“I didn’t throw anything,” She said, suddenly getting defensive. “I was going to win anyway regardless. I just decided to let another team have their day for once.”
“Ah,” I said. “So throwing?”
“No, it’s – ”
“Throwing,” I stated again, nodding once for the sake of embellishment. “It’s throwing.”
Pushing her buttons was pretty fun, but seeing her riled up was even better – and gradually, that blank expression of hers was starting to fill up with every boop.
“Anyway, putting that aside for the time being,” I continued on. “The stipulations of our little bet are all mine to do with it as I please, thanks to you too. Don’t forget.”
Irene spun sideways with a scoff, arms tightly crossed on her march to the elevator – and I was right along with her, trailing closely like a little nagging pixie mercilessly hovering over her shoulder.
“Y’know, if you ask me, it’s almost like you wanted me to win or something.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” She responded in her usual dreary tone.
I fired back, “Then how would you say it?”
“Well, you could say that maybe I...” She stopped, her pace slowing, her voice fading. “Maybe I just felt like singing a bit more, is all... thinking that... it wouldn’t be too bad... if it’s just you.”
In front of the elevator, she quietly stood, blushing, squirming, and in the shimmer and polish of the parting doors, there I was, beaming wide.
I leaned closer, speaking in a whisper, “So you threw.”
‘Yes,” She got into the lift, lips pursed, speaking the truth. “I threw.”
And above the squeaks of whirrs of the closing doors, I quietly let her know, “I’m touched.”
She just faintly groaned, acknowledging.
There was no one else in the elevator with us, only her and I, as if the whole world had decided to leave us well alone. She raised an arm out, and I saw her click for the ground floor... much to my surprise.
“Didn’t you say third floor?”
She kept her gaze forward, saying, “I’m pretty certain the exit is on the ground floor actually.”
“No, but – ” I rummaged through my pockets, pulling out the two creased pieces of paper. “We’re not going?”
“Take Amanda out, the Elf, someone else,” She responded. “They’ll appreciate it more than I will, believe me.”
“But you’re here now...” I said. “We’re here now. Why can’t we – ”
“I have work, a lot of work...” came her weary, sigh-filled retort. “Work I would have finished if I were home by now and not capturing flags.”
“Oh...”
“But, you know, for what it’s worth,” She continued to say, no longer sounding a sour note. “I’m honestly glad I didn’t decide to go home instead,” and my empty hand, I found it gently in her clench. “You made today very fun. Something I didn’t think was possible. I’m happy that you tagged along when you did. It made everything a whole lot more bearable... knowing that you’re there with me.”
There it was, the inside seeping out into the surface – her true emotions. Only alone, alone when it was just the two of us, could I ever catch the glimpse of this elusive side to her, and every single time it just sends my heart a-flutter without fail.
“You’ve embarrassed me, you’ve annoyed me, you’ve defied me many times...” She listed off, her tender gaze betraying her tone of resentment. “And somehow you just make me happier and happier every time you do.”
“So I take it you’re not mad?” I asked.
Her answer came slowly, silently, and through the last of what I glimpsed, between the floors of eight and seven – in the form of her lips leaning in supple, tender, the warmth and feel of her body enveloping my own in moans – conveying emotions unspoken, but still understood oh so profoundly.
“Fuming,” She muttered, breaking from the kiss, and gently pressing her forehead against mine. “And for that – I thank you.”
“Mmm, well,” I muttered back. “What are good friends for, right?”
Irene smiled, hiding her expression with a slant downwards. “That’s it? You’re not going to tease me like you always do? At this point, I’m just waiting for it.”
I shook my head. “Plenty of opportunities come concert time, which would be due pretty soon, I hope? I pray? I wish?”
“I’ll let you know,” came her flimsy vow of assurance, stumbling, taking a step back, composing herself with a breath. “I’ll be busy for quite a while, and I...” she paused, expelling a small sigh, noticing the dour expression on my face. “And I... I’ll try to make it a priority.”
In an instant, I sprang back up again. “Merry Christmas to me.”
“Speaking of...” Irene began, eyeing again the paper bag slung around my shoulder. “If that’s for me, what exactly are you planning to get the others?”
Ah, this conundrum again... and here I thought I never had to think of it again until at least the very next day.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied, shrugging hopelessly. “I’m honestly stumped for ideas.”
As expected, Irene was not too impressed. “And you call yourself a loving boyfriend.”
“I never said that.”
“Oh, so you aren’t loving?”
“Shit,” I blinked – regret. “Fuck.”
Irene let out a short chuckle. “In all seriousness, wouldn’t it be simpler just to ask them outright what they want?”
“It’s supposed to be a surprise actually...”
“Ah, a surprise,” She nodded, peering into the contents of my bag again, before looking back up again with a brow slightly raised. “And how’s that going for you?”
“Alright, fair enough,” I said, conceding. “I just thought a surprise would be nice, is all.”
“Just ask, you’ll see...” Irene spoke with absolute certainty. “Yes, surprises are nice. But knowing that you’ll be surprised is even better, trust me...” once more, she drifted her gaze over towards the bag, a smile forming. “I know.”
The next moment after, the elevator bell chimed, and the doors parted open, revealing a waiting crowd. Irene cleared her throat, emptying her expression.
“Think about it, alright?” She said casually, stepping out to the ground floor and leaving in a huff. “You’d be surprised just how easy you’ll find your answers then.”
I slithered my way through the boarding passengers after her, en route to the front exit. “Hold it, wait!”
She complied, halting, glancing back at me with an almost weary stare. “In case you didn’t notice – that was supposed to be my goodbye.”
“I know, but...” I paused, taking a moment to gaze at her waiting expression. “See, I’ve been thinking...”
“Of course you have...”
“I know I won the bet,” I quickly said before I could wear out her patience. “But at the end of the day, it was ultimately you that planted the flag to victory.”
Irene blinked blankly. “And?” She urged me on.
“You oughta have the right to half the winnings, at least,” I finished. “I’m thinking we should split the bet.”
“Split the – ” She cocked her head. “Split how exactly?”
“Well, as I recall, you had two conditions for winning – double shifts, and anything from me,” I said, displaying her choices through two raised fingers. “Instead of two, you get one – so pick one.”
Irene threw me a look – amusement and bewilderment rolled into one. She gave my two fingers a good long stare, before inquiring, “Shouldn’t the other people involved in this bet be present to see this?”
“Maybe,” I said, smirking. “But we both already know what you’re going to end up choosing anyway, don’t we?”
Like an open book for all to see, Irene quietly admitted her preferred choice. “The latter...”
Bingo.
“What a surprise,” I said, lowering my fingers. “Well, I’m all ears, what will it – ?”
“New year’s.”
I drew my head back, a little taken aback by the speediness of her answer. No doubt she had already decided long ago, the question now was...
“What about New Year’s?”
“New year’s eve, I would like you to spend new year’s with me, my place” Irene further elaborated. “I didn’t want to ask, I’m sure the other girls already had plans with you then, I intended to spend it alone, but since you insisted, well...”
.....
“Alright, say no more,” I said, already setting up a firm mental reminder in my head. “Ask and you shall receive. I mean, it’s no Christmas... but New Year’s is not a bad celebration either way.”
“We won’t be celebrating New Year’s...”
Again, my head all the way back in question. “What would we be celebrating then? Is there anything else to commemorate on that day?”
Apparently, there was.
Beyond my expectations, beyond my assumptions, the answer given in a casual nod.
“Ria’s Birthday.”
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