My lips opened and closed a couple times. “I, um…I just said, actually.” His thick brows shot up, and heat crawled up my neck to settle on my cheeks. “An expression. Right,” I said with a nod, feeling smaller by the second.
I pressed my back on the wall and slid down to the floor, too. If he could sit there, I could sit there, too. My legs were shaking, anyway.
“Why Teddy?” he asked, and his voice didn’t change. It was all low and rough, and while mine rose and lowered a couple times within the same sentence, his was composed.
“It’s short for Theodora. My mom said I looked like a teddybear when I was a baby. The tip of my nose turned pink when I cried.” It still did, actually. “I guess it just stuck.”
The guy nodded like that made perfect sense to him. He turned his eyes to the closed door and rested his head on the shelf behind him. Like that, the light illuminated all of his face, and I saw every detail on him. His hair was so black it shone blue at the tips. He kept it on the longer side, some strings touching the nape of his neck. His short beard was the same color, like a shadow covering his cheeks and chin…and his lips. They were a dark red, like he’d spent the past hour biting on them. That could have very well been the case because they looked swollen, perfectly outlined with a knife-sharp cupid’s bow. His eyes were the same way—two uptilted slits, swollen halfway shut, like he’d just woken up seconds ago. I couldn’t see the color in them, but they looked dark.
My God, he was beautiful.
My eyes scrolled down his body next, since he was still looking at the door. He was massive—wide shoulders and long legs, big clean hands, and large feet. The more of him I noticed, the more it felt like someone had lit a fire in the pit of my stomach because the heat in there almost burned me.
I swallowed hard and looked away, too, trying to remind myself that it was normal to be, erm…surprised by the looks of this man. My whole twenty-one years of life, I’d only lived in my clan, surrounded by my kind. Pixies, like most fae, were different from humans appearance-wise. We were on the smaller side—I was considered very tall back home, and I stood just over five feet. Most of them had hair and eyes in a shade of purple. Not me, though. I was pink. My hair was pink, my eyes were pink. Even my skin had that pink undertone to it, and if I so much as blushed a little bit, it turned bright pink everywhere.
Needless to say, I hated pink with a passion. Ironically, the color suited me best, even better than black.
After a few more seconds, I straightened my back, feeling a bit more confident to look at the guy again.
“So, you work here, too?” I blurted, and my eyes squeezed shut the next second. What a stupid question. Of course, he worked here—why else would he even be in this building? “Why are you sitting here in the dark, sulking?” I asked next before he could answer with the obvious.
He turned his eyes to me, never moving his head. “I am not sulking.”
“Yes, you are.” He was most definitely sulking. What would a guy who looked like that be sulking about? “And that’s not a very good idea. You need to focus on the positive to attract the positive.” His lips parted again, and his eyes glistened. What was going on in that head of his? Why wouldn’t he just talk more? I cleared my throat. “So…how about a smile then?”
His lips pressed together again, and yes, I noticed how perfectly aware of them I was, but it would be rude to turn away from him now, wouldn’t it?
“No smile?” His answer was to squint his eyes at me. “I bet I can get one out of you.” Not for me, mind you, but because he really looked like he needed a smile. Did he ever stretch those lips? Faces were made to smile, my dad said, and this guy didn’t look like he did it often. Dragging myself a bit closer to the shelf, I said, “It’s not hard, I promise. You just need to think about something positive.”
His brows shot up. “Like what?”
“I…I don’t know.” Heat gathered in my cheeks again. He had a million positive things he could pick—like his eyes or his tan skin or his mouth or his hands… “How about your shoes? They’re…black.”
“Black,” he repeated.
“Yes. Black is good. Right?” Oh, no. Black was not good. Black sucked the color out of…well, colors. It didn’t represent anything positive.
The guy closed his eyes for a moment, like he was trying to compose himself. He didn’t say anything.
“You’re not a man of many words, but that’s okay,” I continued. At this point, it was impossible to even try to tell myself what I was feeling was excitement—I was plain nervous. And a bit mortified. Still, I kept on going because when had I ever known to keep my mouth shut? “I have this thing where I sense vibes. I’m going to figure you out, mister.” I smiled, but he didn’t return it. “What’s your name? Better yet—what’s your sign?” It could be…I raised up my hand. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Aquarius, isn’t it?”
I waited a heartbeat, then two. Not a single sound.
“You’re not giving me much to work with here,” I mumbled and leaned back against the wall. The truth of this whole thing fell on me like a brick wall—I had no idea what I was doing. I’d come so far away from home, thinking I had what it took to make my place here, and the first guy I talked to wouldn’t even hold a conversation with me.
But no…that wasn’t right. I couldn’t let myself think like that. This was my first day, for God’s sake. It wasn’t over until I won.
Man, I’d really overdone it with archiving those quotes on Instagram these past few months, and I was starting to annoy my own self with them.
I sat up straight again and looked at the guy. “I’ll trade you, then.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re not going to stop, are you.” It wasn’t even a question.
“Nope.” Not until I win. “But I’ll trade you for that smile. How about it? It’s something…” What was I even going to give him? “…something small and golden, and really, really just…you won’t be able to resist it.” I held onto the button in my hand tightly.
“Oh?” he said, finally a bit curious.
I grinned. “Catch!”