Raspberry Ripple

2. taste

He didn't say a word. He took it and seated himself at the table right next to the truck. There wasn't anyone else and it was quite late. No more customers would be coming by. She picked up the cleaning towel and went over to the tables to tidy things. While she threw the used paper bowls into the trash and wiped the tables clean, she could feel the man's gaze run over her. Her spine tingled, not with discomfort or uneasiness but something like hyper-awareness. Suddenly, Sana recalled how she looked in the mirror the last time she checked one and wondered if her hair was alright.

When she folded the chairs and tables, she could still feel the heat of his gaze. Sana couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop looking at me," she said when she crossed his table, now the only one remaining.

"Quite conceited of you to assume that I was looking at you," he answered cooly, pulling back a clean spoon from his lips.

"One doesn't have to be conceited to tell. You were shamelessly obvious," she stated, halting in front of his table and glaring at him with palms placed on her hips.

"Is it so?" he asked, not looking at her. He was clearly making a point. The man thought she wasn't deserving of his time nor his attention.

She pulled the chair across him and took a seat.

His eyebrow rose.

"What's your name?" she asked.

He clicked his tongue. "I was expecting you to last longer, red."

"Last longer in what?"

"In keeping your curiosity contained."

Sana scowled. This man was talented in turning everything into something he could scorn her for. "Aren't you going to answer my question?"

"Give me one good reason why I should tell you my name." He tipped his chin in challenge. The silver stud in his ear caught the stray rays of the white streetlight and glittered in the dark.

"You don't want me to refer you as Mr Leather Jacket, do you?"

He visibly cringed. Something like pure glee settled in her heart.

"So, what are you going to do, Mr Leather Ja—"

"Dax," he said, his voice firm but disgruntled. "My name. It's Dax."

"Dax," she repeated, feeling it in her voice. It was a unique name and somehow felt like it was made just for him. As if only he had the power to embody a set of three letters strung together.

"Stop that," he stated.

"What did I do?"

The lines of annoyance on his face deepened. He didn't say more. Wordlessly, she watched him finish his ice cream with undivided attention. She had never felt more envious of a non-living thing in her whole life.

When he leaned back into the chair after leaving the paper bowl sparkling clean, strangely pleased with himself, she noticed the nick just below his rib cage, towards the right. His black t-shirt had been sliced, parting to reveal a maroon line on his toned brown skin. When he caught her staring at it, he pulled his jacket closer as if he was hiding an embarrassing yellow stain that was the result of his messy eating habit. "Who hurt you?" she asked, barely a whisper.

"None---"

"Of my business. Yeah, sorry," she said, standing up and wondering how her brain approved of that foolish question that had left her lips. She was an idiot. "I'll leave you to it."

Sana should consider this a lesson. No matter how much she tried, she wasn't going to crack the iron walls around the beautiful stranger. From the looks of it, whatever he had hidden inside those walls was ninety-eight percent terrible news and she'd had enough of those in her past. Her quota for bad things in life was over. She was done doing time for things she wasn't responsible for.