The Schemer

The Monster That Died (not)

"You're... Quite acceptable at this."

"Why thank you, Captain. You seemed a little... How to put it, in a chafe. Assumed it might actually help you to cool down. That, or a cold shower. Also aids well in uncomfortable situations." From above, he noticed a slight twitch on Clara's lips.

"Of course you should know that. The cold shower part, I mean. Such a useful tool helps with absolutely everything." She opened her frosty eyes, meeting the ones coloured like lake water on a sunny day. The steel should not be able to feel amused, but somehow, those grey orbs projected unsaid mirth within them. Clear mock, to which Ashwood answered with a touch of crimson rising up his neck.

"Are you making fun of me because you get a reaction from me, or because I am a man - something that proud females tend to ignore as their equals? Or superiors in certain fields, but I am sure some women are very successful in defeating this sort of gravity." His fingers stopped kneading the woman's flesh, instead choosing to slide down slowly her shoulders, then one arm, until his own limbs extended to their maximum.

"I am not sure what you wanted to say with the last part, but I definitely enjoy seeing your blood rushing towards the surface of your skin. I am a feminist, Ashwood, but I would not make fun of a man just because of my beliefs." She chewed on her lip for a moment, contemplating her next words. "Don't get me wrong. I like seeing strong female characters taking the world in their hands. Or hand. Men were ruling it for far too long, wasting its resources and building unprofitable, useless structures, accomplishing irrational ideas. But I would never go as far as making fun of men and their... Needs and... Bodily functions."

"You're trying to change the topic, aren't you? By introducing a view to which I might want to argue with."

"How would you know?" A tiny, the most conservative smirk graced those long, chapped lips. "It was you who started talking about men's rights in the first place, Ash." Suddenly, Clara bent her neck, protruding a hollow sound. The man flinched, immediately removing his hands from her body. He hated that sound. The commando knew that. What she did not expect was him to move around her and prompt himself on the abandoned chair. 

"Don't even think of leaving me in the dark, Captain." His jaw clenched, making the lines of his face harsher, more prominent. Involuntary, Clara wished to just sit like this and keep staring, drinking in the Ancient Greek statue gone alive, for some miracle choosing to waste his time right here, with her. It was not an attraction, she was sure of this. No, it was simple appreciation, admiration of his aesthetics, which would be valued even without Ashwood's personality. Knowing him in person made it even more enjoyable, because now, Clara could hold in high regard both his physical beauty and his persona.

She cleared her throat. And it was not a typical I-need-some-time-to-think cough, no, it sounded as if something was genuinely stuck in Clara's throat, blocking the way for words to escape. "Let's have a... Conversation. Or better, be silent and let me do all the talking. I will tell you a short story. That's all you will get from me."

"Is this story of yours related to the matter of your visitor?"

"Definitely. Not as closely as to give away all the answers, but I believe, at some point in the future, it will make a lot of sense. I promise. Now, will you allow me to do that?" The man furrowed his eagle-wing eyebrows just a tiny bit, making a barely noticeable line appear on his otherwise smooth forehead. After a few seconds, he nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact. "Good."

Clara extended her long legs underneath the table. Her foot bumped Ashwood's shoe, forcing him to break intense staring by lowering his gaze for a moment. When he lifted his eyes once more, ash-blonde hair falling into them, the man noticed the same fire of amusement blazing within her light-coloured orbs. "Well? I'm waiting."