The Last Dance

The Last Dance (23)

"How... how did you... how do you know all that?" He whispered.

I raised an eye brow "Well, for one thing, I'm not blind, and I pay attention" I teased.

He didn't seem amused, instead his forehead crinkled and he frowned thoughtfully.

"But then... why don't I know any of that stuff about you?"

I yawned "Well, presumably you were always too busy making fun of me to notice" I said in a bemused tone of voice.

He didn't seem to share my opinion; instead he looked horrified by my comment. "I can't believe how much of a jerk I am" He muttered sadly.

I stared at him in alarm seeing a dejected look come over his face.

He turned away from me abruptly and started fiddling with a stick on the ground, looking oddly devastated.

I felt the smile melt off my face and suddenly found it unbearable to see him like this. How was it possible for him to have such an effect on me? Just seeing the sadness etched on his face felt like a physical blow.

"John, I wasn't being serious. I mean, well it's true, but I didn't mean for you to feel badly about it, I certainly don't take it as an insult, truly, it's just the way we've always been."

I tried vainly to convince him but he didn't seem at all cheered. He didn't even look up, just kept his gaze stubbornly on the ground. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why this made him so upset. I bit my lip, wondering what I could say to make this better.

"Is it really that big a deal to you?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He sighed and turned his face to the side, staring off into the dark.

"It's just... how self absorbed do you have to be not to know a thing about someone you've grown up with? All I know about you is from what I've seen in the last few days. Until then I thought the way you acted towards me was the way you actually were. I feel so stupid."

I struggled to think of what to say to make this better. Really how does one respond to that?

"It's not like I haven't changed my own judgements of you recently. You know, you probably know me better that you're giving yourself credit for" I said hesitantly.

He finally turned to face me and met my gaze. I could see the uncertainly in his features.

"And it's not too late you know, if it's all of a sudden so important to you" I added teasingly.

This managed to make him smile, finally.

"Alright then, what's your favourite color?"

"Purple, the shade you get only during a sunrise... beautiful" I said smiling to myself. "That's part of the reason I'm always up before the sun, just so I can see it."

He looked up at the sky with an expression that seemed wistful, though the moonlight only outlined the planes of his face, so I couldn't be sure.

"Show me sometime?"

Well, that's something, John taking an interest in something I like. But maybe he's just trying to make up for not knowing in the first place. Yes, that's probably it.

"Of course" I murmured. Surely he would forget soon anyway.

He nodded and thought about his next question. "And a sword is your favourite weapon?" He added hopefully.

I nodded and he looked relieved "See, you know something about me."

"Well, not until the day we had a duel. Just from that look on your face of complete confidence. And the way you fought as if the sword were an extension of your arm. You looked like you were born to be a swordsman. Err... well swordswoman I guess" He said ruefully.