Work Text:
He has a match.
He has a fucking match.
Lying in bed, Eskel stares at his phone in a weird mixture of disbelief and glee. He set up his profile a couple of weeks ago, but the luck has not been on his side. It isn’t his first match, but the others either ghosted him or didn’t uphold a conversation for long. Some of them were simply bots.
So Eskel looks at the notification and wonders if this one will turn up as a disappointment. His doubts are slightly mitigated, when a message pops up.
Mira: Hey! Loved your profile! Wanna chat for a bit?
He swallows and hastily opens woman’s profile to refresh it in his memory. Eskel swipes through pictures, looking at Mira standing in a museum, Mira cycling through a flower field, Mira enjoying a piece of chocolate cake. There is even a funny photo of her in an illusion gallery, and Eskel finds himself smiling. Mira is cute and lovely. They have some common interests, too, based on the description. She is looking for a serious relationship.
Eskel stops smiling: he is after the same thing, yet he is not sure how good he is for this, judging from his previous experience. On the other hand, she messaged him first, which means she is interested. If she’s not a bot, that is.
Struggling to keep himself from nervous fidgeting, Eskel presses on the pop-up and looks at the empty chat. Mira is still online, probably waiting for him to answer. Who knows how long she will be waiting, and so he starts typing. Before pressing send, Eskel hesitates and deletes the meager two sentences, starting again. It happens once more, and he exhales in frustration.
The green circle is still there, but Eskel knows his time is running out, because now Mira can see that he is writing something and it’s taking him eternity. He thumps his head on a pillow – she is probably thinking he is a weirdo, typing a long-ass text.
Fuck.
Finally – finally! – he sends a curt message.
Eskel: Sure. Loved your profile, too, by the way.
It takes Mira a minute to see his message. While he waiting, Eskel rereads it, a horrific realization hitting him in the gut. He copied her part of the text. He put a period in the end, not even an exclamation mark. Of course, it’s subjective, but that little dot is often intimidating, even to himself. Eskel forgot to send an emoji, but now it’s too late, because Mira is typing a reply, and he can’t bring himself to swiftly type something else. Was he being too brief in his answer?
Before Eskel can convince himself that the disaster is actually unfolding, there is a new message from the woman.
Mira: Thanks! You look very cute in the picture with the black dog :)
Okay, this is a familiar territory. He got lots of positive feedback on that photo, and Eskel is relieved, knowing how to navigate this particular type of a conversation. He notes a smiley face, slightly wincing at himself, and then another understanding dawns at him. She called him cute. He was called handsome before, even lovely one time, but cute? Never happened.
His chest spasms, but Eskel refuses to get his hopes up. After all, they just met online, and she hasn’t seen his full face, since all of his photos are taken to favor the left side masterfully hiding the right one. He does have a small note in his description box that he has scars, but people are never fully prepared to see them. Especially from a tall, broad man, who can break someone’s nose with a punch.
Mira needs to be replied to, so Eskel ignores his slight discomfort.
Eskel: Thank you. His name is Collin. He’s my regular
Mira: Really? Do you have pets of your own?
Eskel: No, I have enough of them at work. Do you?
Mira: I have a rat. I know, I know
Eskel: That’s unusual
Mira: Yeah. She looked so cute when I saw her in a pet store. She did a few tricks and that’s how she adopted me
Eskel: What’s her name?
Mira: Daisy. Want to see a picture?
Eskel: Yes
When the photo arrives, Eskel opens it and marvels. The rat has a curious look on her tiny face. Daisy is definitely well cared for, her grey-and-white coat calling for pets. Eskel notices that the rodent is on Mira’s shoulder, snuggle tucked in the crook of her neck. The photo is focused mostly on Daisy, but he can see a plain black t-shirt the woman is wearing, a curl of her golden hair around a delicate eat and the softness of the cheek.
Eskel: She seems smart
Mira: She is! She can do tricks too
Eskel: That’s cool. I used to have a goat
Mira: A real goat?!
Eskel: Yes. She lives with my father now, but I visit them regularly
Mira: Do you have a picture?
Eskel: No. Little menace kept trying to chew at the phone
Eskel: I have a video though
He sends the video and waits. The conversation started well, but Eskel is not sure what to do next. Should he stay on the same topic or should he introduce a new subject? But animals are safe to talk about, so changing it seems risky. Damn it.
Mira: I can sense she has strong character
Eskel: She does
Eskel: Even horses are scared of her
Mira: That’s hilarious
Eskel stares at the screen, feeling the dialogue is starting to die out. Maybe he should find another video of the goat. Maybe it is time to ask her our and to meet in person. No, it is too soon, he is not ready. But what if she thinks he is not interested enough? Gods, why is it so difficult for him?
Mira: Shoot, I have to go now! There’s emergency work meeting. Someone clicked on a suspicious link and my boss is pissed
With a deep sigh, Eskel regretfully looks at his screen. It seems like a goodbye. The conversation was nice, perhaps even to Mira, but she is not feeling it, so the woman is being polite to let him down gently. It’s better than being ghosted, but Eskel can’t help sensing his chest spasming painfully with disappointment.
Mira: I’m having a dinner with a friend later. How about we talk tomorrow?
Mira: My work ends at 5. Before that I might be responding slowly. But feel free to text anytime!
Eskel hugs a pillow and nervously scratches his scars. If she didn’t want the conversation to continue, she wouldn’t have allowed him to write anytime. Still, he is unsure. Yet, she is waiting for an answer, judging by the still-green mark next to her name.
Eskel: I also finish at 5 tomorrow
He inhales and exhales. He won’t lose anything if he asks for it, and she did want to continue chatting with him, so the risk doesn’t seem high.
Eskel: May I have your phone number?
Mira: Sure! Here it is
He hurriedly saves the number and shoots a quick message to signal it’s him, so Mira can save his number as well. If she wants, that is. Honestly, it’s shocking that she shared hers, but it means she is still interested. The thought warms his spine and chest, and Eskel exhales in relief.
Mira: Is it okay if I text you around lunch?
Clutching at the pillow, Eskel types a genuine answer.
Eskel: I’d love that
In a moment of vulnerable honesty, he allows himself to write a bit more, hoping it doesn’t sound too clingy.
Eskel: I’ll be waiting
Mira: :D
Mira: Have a great evening!
Eskel: You too
All he hopes is that Mira will text him tomorrow. If not, well, she said he could text anytime, so he can always reach out after they finish their work.
Next day, the first thing he does is reaching for his phone. He checks it after waking up, during breakfast, before opening the front door, after closing the front door, before taking a bus, on the bus and upon arriving. The weird agitation puts him on edge and slightly nervous. Whenever there is a buzz, Eskel instinctively slides his fingers into his back pocket only to see how his clients answer the calls or texts.
After the first two stressful hours, he puts the phone into one of the desk drawers and tries to focus on work. His thoughts keep wondering, hands itching to latch onto the shiny gadget, as if it could make a text magically appear on the screen. Eskel knows it is not rational and that Mira is just a stranger from the Internet. Honestly, he should be grateful she is not a bot.
She hasn’t seen his full face yet.
And there is no way to know how she’ll react.
He has talked to lots of people. Some of them were adventurous enough to want a one-night stand, some had kinks and wanted to be pinned down. It was all fun and games, but Eskel has been looking for a stable relationship. He has been searching for emotional intimacy and feeling wanted, which short flings doesn’t provide, they just help with… other things. Some people were disrespectful. Some seemed nice, but quickly put out by his general appearance.
And there was Triss, who used him just to make his brother jealous. It didn’t work, because Geralt was happily dating Jaskier. What it actually made was Eskel getting insecure even more. He has no illusions what he looks and he enjoys a good laugh nonetheless. He also has no illusions of why women can feel intimidated when approached by anyone of his build. His only good option is dating apps.
Jaskier calls it low self-esteem.
Eskel calls it being practical.
With a sigh, he checks his phone. It’s after one, which means Mira should be having her break. Eskel unblocks the phone. His heart skips a bit – there is a new message.
It’s her. She actually texted him.
Mira: Hi! How is your day going?
Eskel: Hey! Not too busy, just one emergency. How’s yours? Is your boss still pissed?
Mira: Yep. We have an older employee who is not very skilled with these things. She opened a suspicious link, and there was a bug or something
Mira: The software detected it and deleted the thing, but it was messy
Mira: The whole morning was on cyber safety
Eskel: Delightful
Mira: I know, right? Did you eat?
Eskel: No, but I’m about to
Mira: Me too! What are you having?
Eskel: Chicken salad and baked potatoes. You?
Mira: Wok take-out, had no time to cook yesterday
They chat while they eat. Eskel feels braver than yesterday and sends her a picture of his meal. It’s not a selfie, because he can’t find a right angle to hide the scars, show his plates and look good at the same time. Mira doesn’t insist and sends him a similar one. He can see a colorful thermos cup she has, with painted watercolor whales. It’s strangely endearing.
The conversation flows throughout the whole break. They talk mostly about food and cooking, until Mira has to go because it is a stressful day at her workplace, so the boss lady is asking everyone to return earlier to work, promising to make it up to them. Mira manages to take a sneaky video of the general atmosphere in her bookshop, and Eskel can’t help but chuckle looking at the annoyed faces.
They say bye, agreeing to continue talking in the evening. The tightness disappeared, and Eskel can sense the strange lightness inside. In a better mood, he returns to work, taking as much comfort as he can from his fluffy patients. After work, he goes to a local gym and buys groceries on his trip home, stuffing food into his huge backpack.
Strange anticipation doesn’t return for some reason, and Eskel finds himself relaxing into the evening. The thought of Mira not messaging him today doesn’t bother him so much anymore, and he has enough courage now to text her tomorrow in the morning.
The conversation still happens, she reached out first, though, so Eskel makes a mental note to write her a good morning text. They chat while eating and then later. It is a heady feeling, sending her pictures and memes, but it’s a good start. Eskel is more confident now.
Their chat extends into the next day, and then a week passes. Another one follows.
Eskel feels more confident in himself. The world seems a bit brighter somehow. He obsessively checks his phone upon the slightest vibration. They send each other good morning and good night messages, exchanging rare texts throughout the working hours, yet compensating afterwards. With the questions becoming more open and deeper, their messages grow longer, spilling into several paragraphs. For the first time in quite some time, the connection is there, almost tangible, and Eskel deletes his profile on the dating app. It’s not like he’s talking to another person there, and he can always set it up if the need arises.
He hopes it won’t.
With the new level of comfort, they start exchanging photos with their daily activities. Some of them are cute, some of them are funny. Mira likes sending him short videos, spilling all the tea on two of her dramatic coworkers. Eskel finds it hilarious, feeling oddly invested. After the first week of successful dialog, he summons enough bravery to send a selfie, angling his face carefully not to expose his scars too much. Mira doesn’t comment on them, just notes that he looks good in red.
After a while, they start sending audio messages to save on time. Mira has a lovely voice, not too high-pitched, not too low. She sang in a choir throughout middle school, but never considered pursuing the career, even though she made short covers during her teenage years. Eskel swallows his anxiety and sends voice messages as well. Mira doesn’t seem to be put out by them, but he received a few unflattering comments a couple of times, and they made him self-conscious. Still, everything goes well. Mira is consistent in her attitude.
Eskel soars with contentment.
He is ready to take the next step, that is asking her out.
It’s been three weeks now, and he feels ready. From what he could notice, she was ready as well. Well, at least, he hopes so. If not, he can wait more, it’s not an issue for him, considering how things has been going.
And so, Eskel waits till she finishes her work and gets out. He wants them both to be at home, so they can calmly discuss things. His lips stretch in a content smile, when he gets a message with a picture of her. Mira is in a bakery already, a funny expression on her face. She’s holding a big batch of danishes next to her shoulder, and Eskel lets out a chuckle: the tilted angle makes the photo even funnier.
They chat for a minute, where Mira lets him know that she’s taking a tram to a post office to pick up a package. Eskel sends her a short video while he’s on his way to get a coffee and then he’ll head to his apartment, because it is going to rain soon.
The rain starts, when he enters the kitchen to deposit a take-away bagel and half-empty coffee cup. Mira hasn’t texted him yet, which means she’s probably still out, and, with it raining cats and dogs, it might take her a while, and she doesn’t have an umbrella.
After doing his stretching routine and laundry, Eskel checks his phone. She still hasn’t replied. He frowns, looking at the last message from her complaining about lots of people at the tram station. Eskel quickly shoots her a quick text. There is a weird feeling in his stomach, but he does his best to ignore it.
One more hour pass. Nothing yet.
With a sigh, Eskel starts watching a show, occasionally glancing at his phone. Mira has been stressed out for the last few days, since they are preparing for a bookfair in their shop, and the organization has been a bit chaotic. Maybe, she fell asleep. It happened twice, and she wrote him each time afterwards.
Yes, it’s probably the case.
Later at night, before turning the lights of, he checks his phone again. Eskel sends her their usual good night text and falls asleep.
In the morning, he reaches for the phone without even properly opening the eyes. Nothing. He turns off and on the wi-fi, installs new version of the app and makes himself a coffee. Disappointment swells in his chest as Eskel is silently looking at his open chat with Mira. She hasn’t texted him back. She hasn’t even read it. He sends her another message, wishing good morning and a good day at work, still hoping that it’s a misunderstanding. Maybe, she fell asleep, and her phone died.
Maybe, she’ll text him when she’s at work.
But nothing comes. Eskel’s mood is souring by the hour, and animals can sense that. He must be projecting a very grim energy, because a golden retriever fetches him its personal toy and a cat tries to climb his shoulders purring a storm.
When his phone finally buzzes, Eskel hurries to reach for it and almost knocks his water bottle off the desk. It’s Lambert. While he loves his brother, that is not the person Eskel desperately wants to talk to. He checks his chat with Mira again, hoping that a message from her will magically appear. The miracle doesn’t happen, and Eskel sighs, anxious knots forming in his stomach.
The day passes. Mira doesn’t text him.
Eskel: Hey, are you okay?
Eskel: It’s raining again, hope you have your umbrella this time
Eskel: I know you’ve been busy. Sorry if I’m bothering you
Eskel: Just shoot me a quick text
Eskel: I’m sorry if I did something wrong. Could we talk?
Eskel: I miss you
He scrolls though their chat, trying to pin point what went wrong. He doesn’t find anything alarming in particular, and it pains him. Maybe, that’s why she’s ghosting him - he can’t even understand his mistake. Maybe, she’s just tired of him. Maybe, someone more interesting texted her, and Mira decided to call it quits. Even though she said she doesn’t text multiple people at the same time. Even though they’ve had three great weeks together.
Doesn’t he deserve some closure? Doesn’t he deserve at least a final goodbye?
But Eskel knows she doesn’t own him anything. Even though he really wanted to meet her soon.
Maybe it’s for the best: this way she won’t be frightened of him. They haven’t promised anything to each other, but Eskel hoped, really hoped that they would be a thing. It’s been going so well, at least, he thought it has until it turned out he was wrong.
He listens to a couple of her old audio messages in a weird, self-inflicted torture. He misses her, he really does. She made him feel wanted and appreciated. Mira was obviously in no hurry to meet, and Eskel truly understood the need to test the waters first, especially after he had learned that she had had some unfortunate incidents. He was more that happy to take their time and not to rush into in-person meetings to avoid rancid feelings, but now…
Now it doesn’t matter.
He feels like shit.
Eskel wants to take a day off of work, but decides against it last minute. It helps to keep his mind off things, but whenever he goes to the bathroom or wanders to a coffee machine, his thoughts stray away. Eskel misses Mira and her laugh. He got so used to her during the past weeks that it feels weird now not to feel like she is here with him. Even it was just on the phone.
Fucking hell.
For the next few days, Eskel can’t help but check his phone every hour, so he just deletes their chat. It is clear that Mira is not going to reply, so there is no need to have painful memories. All this time, he is in pain: it feels like a break-up, even though they have not been dating. Eskel knows it’s not entirely rational, but he can’t help feeling these emotions, this sticky bitterness that comes after yet another romantic failure.
Eskel skips his usual evening walks and stays at home the whole weekend, ordering take out. He doesn’t bother telling Geralt and Lambert about this because it’s too soon, and he knows that Jaskier will try to make it better by saying that Mira is not worth his heartache if she can’t even have the guts to be honest.
Logically, Eskel gets it. Emotionally, he’s a wreck. The last thing he needs is Jaskier consoling him, because nothing can make it better right now; the world feels vast and gloomy, just as the heavy emptiness in his heart. Jaskier doesn’t get what it’s like being feared or having a rough exterior. Jaskier never had to endure the same struggle, because he is pretty and extroverted, and silver-tongued. And he never had to be a rebound or a plaything just to make the third person jealous.
Come to think of it, he is the only one who’s single. Geralt and Jaskier danced around each other before they finally got some braincells, but even during that period they were still involved with other people. At the same time, while Lambert never wanted anything serious and was more than content with hook-ups, the moment he met Aiden, the man fell deep and hard. It took them a bit of smoothing sharp edges out, but they have been happily together ever since.
In his adult life, Eskel hasn’t brought home anyone, except for Triss, but that relationship was terrible for him. After the scars, nobody stuck for long enough to get into something serious. Jaskier poetically called him unlucky. Eskel would use another, more diminishing adjective, but he knows he is being pathetic.
It’s just another person.
It’s just another disappointment.
During the next week, Eskel is quiet and unassuming. His confidence escaped him yet again, and he finds himself slouching in public, trying to appear smaller. Thanks to the rainy weather, he can wear caps and hoods, managing to hide his scars better. People around him notice his pessimistic mood. In the coffeeshop he frequents, staff asks if everything is fine. It’s not, but Eskel politely lies he’s alright, just very stressful week at work. His colleagues think it is a seasonal thing, and they try to cheer him up. Eskel appreciates their effort, but there is a huge hole in his heart, and its darkness has been chewing on him since Mira ignored him.
When Lambert calls him, Eskel can’t pretend he’s doing well, because his brothers know him incredibly well, just like he knows them. They agree to meet on Saturday at Eskel’s favorite spot: a small park near a town bridge across the river, splitting the city in two parts. Eskel usually goes there during ungodly hours to avoid crowds, but they decide to meet for brunch.
Saturday morning is rainy and cloudy, so there will be few if any people in the area. Eskel doesn’t really want to go out, but Lambert insisted of meeting in town no matter what. Having put on comfortable clothes and a water-proof jacket, Eskel grabs a large umbrella and checks his wallet in the pocket.
The short bus trip to the bridge is as miserable as he imagined. People drag themselves out, displaying no desire whatsoever to leave the sturdy roof. Eskel squeezes himself between other passengers and heads straight to wait for the green light to cross the road. He loves the bridge and he loves the view from it.
His heart painfully throbs – he wanted to bring Mira here and have a cute little date.
There is a large coffeeshop at the corner of the street, and Eskel pushes the door open, a tiny bell signals his arrival. Lambert is there, hanging his jacket on the back of his chair and looking for a good spot to leave his leaking umbrella. He approaches his brother and they share a brief hug after Eskel divest himself from the outerwear. They manage to find a good spot for their umbrellas, so the dripping water doesn’t make too much of a mess. Having ordered hot beverages, they sit at last.
“So,” Lambert starts, drilling into him, “the fuck is happening?”
Yep, that’s Lambert - straight to the point. Eskel feels strange warmth blooming in his chest at the familiar display. He cracks down, giving a bit more details. They spoke on the phone about Mira yesterday, but Eskel finds himself rumbling. Lambert listens, frowning and cursing from time to time.
“Well, that sucks,” he concludes.
“Yeah,” Eskel agrees, because there is really nothing more to add.
“It does seem off, though,” Lambert’s frown deepens.
“Yeah, I know.”
“What if she got hit by a car and she’s in coma?” Eskel looks skeptically at his brother, not dignifying him with an answer. It seems highly improbable. Lambert, shameless as ever, looks at him expectantly. When no reply follows, he shrugs his shoulders. “You know where she works?”
“No, we never gave work address to each other.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Basic safety, come on, now,” Eskel suspiciously narrows his eyes. “How often do you give strangers details on something like that?”
“Hm,” this time, it’s Lambert who avoids the answer, and Eskel rolls his eyes.
“Eskel!”
No fucking way.
He immediately spots Mira, body and wet hair, at the counter. She is walking his way, and Eskel’s heart speeds up, nearly sending him into an anxiety attack. There is a relieved look on her face: Mira seems genuinely happy to see him. Eskel is not sure he feels the same way, especially when he realizes she is approaching from his scarred side of the face.
A lump forms in his throat, and Eskel barely stops himself from whimpering: it is not the way he imagined their first meeting. Lambert senses his discomfort and visibly gets into the defensive mode, which means a disaster is definitely about to unfold.
“I’m so glad I found you! I hoped I could find you here,” Mira is looking right into his eyes. Eskel is doing his best not to avert the gaze, because there is no way she is not seeing his scars.
“Try texting him first, lady,” Lambert snarls, because they are all overprotective of each other, especially in the times of need. Or stress. Or both.
“Yeah, about that-” she looks slightly sheepish, and Lambert snorts. It makes her visibly uncomfortable. Eskel sympathizes – his brother can be obnoxious beyond the limits when he must prove a point. “Do you think we could talk somewhere alone?”
“Don’t mind me,” the poison in Lambert’s voice makes Mira slightly flinch, still maintaining the eye contact with him. But she composes herself, and Eskel marvels at that for a second.
“Could you give us a minute?” he asks, briefly glancing at his brother. Lambert scoffs but does stand up and walks to the bathroom.
Mira doesn’t sit and doesn’t try to grab another chair. Eskel takes a deep breath before looking at her, endless pit in his stomach. He wants to scratch the hell out of his scars, but it will just draw extra attention to them. Mira looks extremely unsure now, clearly losing her footing in the face of Lambert’s remarks.
“My phone got stolen,” she hastily says. Eskel’s brows shoot up. “That day, I went home, took a shower and wanted to text you, but found it missing. I opened the messenger on my laptop, but my account was already blocked because the bastard started spamming people left and right.”
“Damn,” Eskel quietly says, overwhelmed with nervous energy. She doesn’t seem to be lying and is reaching into her pocket to show him a new, shiny phone. It does look brand new, not even a tiny scratch on it.
“Yeah,” Mira shyly smiles at him and looks down. “Had to update my bank account and- well, everything.” She tucks a strand of her damp hair behind her ear, and Eskel tracks the movement. “I tried reaching out, but your profile was deleted. And I had to buy a new sim-card, so-”
“So, you didn’t have my number,” Eskel concludes. A deep tiredness sets into his bones all of a sudden, but the explanation makes him feel a tiny bit better.
“Yeah.” Mira pulls out the same strand to let it loosely fall in front, only to nervously tuck it back. It’s a nervous habit, Eskel realizes. “I’m sorry, I truly am. I remembered you liked the bridge, right? So, I figured I could check if you were here.”
“I see.”
Her phone got stolen and she remembered his favorite place in town. A familiar warmth spreads in his chest, and Eskel doesn’t know what to do with his limbs.
“How did you figure out I would be here on the weekend?” he asks.
“It’s raining, so I thought you might be inside. You said you liked this coffee chain,” Mira answers nervously.
She remembers this, too. The thought makes him giddy.
“No, I mean, today.”
“Ah,” she blushes, tugging at her hair. “I’ve been walking around here every day.” The blush intensifies, and Mira hurriedly adds, “Not in a creepy way!”
Eskel looks at her, really looks. She has been coming here to find him, for the whole week. The light dizziness hits him – nobody has ever put that much effort into him, into being with him. But Mira, Mira really wanted him, otherwise she wouldn’t have spent her free hours, aimlessly wandering around and hoping to bump into him.
“I mean- I thought we could- continue? I know it’s been- a while,” she chokes out, her voice strained with emotion, and Eskel slowly stands up. With each word, Mira speaks quieter until he has to listen hard to hear. “I mean- that is- if you aren’t seeing anyone new?”
“No, I- No, I’m not.” He rasps. She’s still not looking up, and Eskel uses the moment to quickly fix his hair to cover some of the scars. “Is it okay if we- if we hug?”
“Yes, please,” Mira says and leans into his space.
Eskel carefully envelops her in an embrace. He feels how her body shudders, tension slowly sipping away from it, and he knows she has been stressing out about the whole situation as much as he has been if not more. Eskel keeps his hands on her back. Ever so slowly, he tilts his head to press his good cheek into her hair. Mira exhales and hugs his midsection.
“I know it wasn’t on purpose,” Eskel quietly says, “I was hurt, I’m not gonna lie, but now I know it was bad luck.”
“M-m,” Mira hums into his collarbones, “I was so worried I wouldn’t find you.”
“I thought-” he swallows, “I thought I screwed everything up.”
“No, you were amazing,” she huffs. “You are amazing.”
“And you. I missed you so much.” Eskel confesses into her hair. Her arms squeeze him tighter, and he reciprocates the intensity.
“I missed you, too.” Mira whispers, still noticeably shaken by the whole endeavor.
They stay like this for a minute or so, enjoying each other's presence. Eventually, Eskel gently peels her off, but not pushing away. Her hair is still damp, and he offers Mira his seat. Having grabbed a free chair at a table nearby, Eskel sits at her left side. Their knees touch. He likes the feeling of it.
After a short deliberation, Eskel orders some citrus tea and two pieces of cake. When Lambert joins them at the table, he remembers that he forgot to get his brother a slice. Lambert snorts and goes to get himself a sandwich. Mira gets up to go the bathroom to wash her hands. While she’s absent, Eskel quickly fills Lambert in. His brother lets out an amused snort.
“Sorry I was an ass,” he apologizes to Mira, not looking regretful in the slightest. “My brother comes first.”
“I get it, my best friend’s the same,” she shoots him a shy smile. Eskel knows exactly who she’s talking about and gives her a wry smile.
The three of them talk for a while, until Lambert leaves, letting them catch up. He does suggest to let them know where they work and to exchange emails as well, just in case. He also leaves his number to Mira and saves hers, also just in case.
They spend the rest of the day together. When the rain stops, they walk around, enjoying the bridge and heading to the main square. Mira clutches at his elbow, but Eskel surprises her – and himself – by hesitantly taking her hand, afraid she will disappear again, holding it firmly, just in case.
For lunch, they buy street food. In the late afternoon, it rains again, so they wait it out in a café. They talk and talk, about her bookfair, about animals in his vet shop, and everything else they missed.
In the evening, Eskel walks her home. Near the front door of her apartment building, Mira kisses him soundly, clutching at his jacket. Eskel presses her closer, hungrily biting her lower lip. She invites him over, and he eagerly agrees, promising that tomorrow he’ll invite her to his place.
Just in case.