Taking Ruka's advice as he meandered towards the counter, Chigusa gazed into her cup: less than half full. She laughed suddenly out loud at this observation; after all, when was her glass ever half full or more, in any respect? Thankfully, this time, it merely meant she wouldn't have to endure much more of this bitter drink, which had already grown quite cool. Tipping the cup towards lavender-glossed lips, she downed the rest in one go, the cold dregs contacting her lips and making her pull away in a grimace. She not-so-delicately wiped her lips off on a napkin, and reached into the small pocket at her righthand hip. She had forgotten her purse backstage, but hse always carried some cash in her little hidden pocket...and her lipgloss compact, because of how often the stuff wore away. She dipped a finger gently into the gooey tablet of makeup, and applied it perfectly to her lips. Good as new, she thought, as she rubbed the excess makeup from her finger onto yet another napkin.
She watched Tsuchiya...sempai? Yes, sempai, because if he was older than Jury he must also be older than herself. She watched Tsuchiya-sempai as his eyes passed over the treats behind the glass display case. And as his eyes wandered, so did hers. He was tall, broad-shouldered, a well-built man. She liked his hair...no, that was wrong. She just hated it when men wore their hair long, that was all, and he didn't. Why was it that she disliked long hair on men again? She liked long tresses on her women, free to play with as she did her business...but she hated when men let their hair grow out because
because Oji-san* grew his hair out, Oji-san grew his hair out long, Oji-san grew his
She shook her head, clearing it of whatever phantasmagoria had begun to run rampant there. What did it matter? People had their preferences and that was hers. Why should she need a reason why? Time to turn her thoughts back to the man at hand, not to...whoever it was she had been recalling.
This man, handsome as he was, was so pale...and it was a different sort of pale than Chigusa's sallow, sun-robbed skin posessed. In his projected strength there was frailty, also; but frailty of the spirit? She thought not. Perhaps physical, but his character was good. At least, as much as she had seen of it was. Men all turned out to be scum in the end; they always let their primal natures get the better of them. She hated humanity in its whole, but men were a special cause of loathing.
But this man...the Wandering Prince, as she had called him...had shown her kindness she hadn't expected. So she chose to respond in the same way, and repay his kindness with her own. She could do that easily; she was the queen of the waiting game. His true male nature would show itself eventually. And when it did...
the knife again, Gusa-chan, don't be afraid of his prick when he's afraid of your knife
...she knew how to intimidate to get what she needed.
Her thoughts were interrupted by his voice and offered arm. Smiling elegantly, she took his arm and rose from her seat. "Yes, I think it's about time we set out. Would you like your jacket back?" Knowing he would most likely refuse, and insist she should continue to wear it to keep out the cold air, but asking nonetheless. She indicated the package under his other arm. "Are those for Arisugawa-kun?" She grinned at the taste of using such an honorific on her boss' name, even in benign jest; anything to reduce those with power in her mind was deeply satisfying.
She waved an arm towards the door; towards the city and it's circus maximus of sins. "Let us away, O Wandering Prince!" she announced, smiling. And for once, that smile was genuine; that smile was good borne of goodness. She faced the wrath of the Panther once back at the club, faced collecting her belongings and returning to her apartment alone, faced another night of solitude with her memories, in which she would need to down pills to get to sleep. But for now...all was good.
*Oji-san = uncle