by A Uscila
A few glances around and Luke found a quick, yet simple solution to end this day of adventure in one fell swoop.
“Let’s just order a hotdog and eat on a bench” - He suggested. Though that was a strange way to suggest, seeing as Luke did not wait for an opinion - walking off towards a nearby hotdog stand on his own.
Luckily for him, Willow did seem to carry a shared opinion on the matter - quickly following suit.
An aged fellow with a few grey strands of hair manned the little stand - a metal box of a cart. A large yellow umbrella welded to its’ side - covering the owner and those who waited for their serving under from the torturous rays of the sun. Which hung above as per usual - sadistically enjoying its’ purpose. Luckily - the day was nearing its’ end - thus the sun was already on its way down towards the horizon. A day of fun to look back to when it was all over.
“Two servings please. Don’t forget the mustard” - Luke ordered. Yet again - forgetting to ask for a second opinion. Though - a repeat of the same stroke of luck took place. Since Willow, for some unknown reason, seemed content with his choice. Silently standing at his side - watching as the aged fellow prepared the order. A couple of sausages taken out from boiling water - placed in beforehand prepared buns.
“Two euros” - The fellow demanded, after giving the first bun to Luke - who in turn stretched out the money prepared in advance.
As the exchange took place - it was Willow’s turn to receive her serving, during which a peculiar happenstance occurred.
“Here you go little missy, free of charge. You social workers have it harder than I do, it seems” - A warmhearted smile, yet quite rude words. At least regarding Luke. If only Luke’s job would permit him to judge such freelance establishments as well.
“What?...” - Willow replied, dumbfounded - though she did manage to take the hotdog. Before a continuation of the inquiry could be presented - Luke quickly intervened.
“Yes, yes. Thank you very much - have a nice day” - He said, while forcefully dragging his companion by the hand.
“The fuck are you doing? And what was that just now?” - With one eyebrow risen, Willow inquired with both interest and slight agitation - most likely due to the unwelcome physical contact. Women did find it disgusting to be touched by a creature such as Luke.
Still, with perseverance - he did manage to drag her far enough, for the hotdog man to be unable to hear their continuation of that abruptly ended conversation.
“He just thought that you’re a social worker. No big deal. You just saved two euros, so be satisfied with the outcome” - Luke commented - after releasing her hand as quickly as he grabbed it. Fear of rejection obvious to the keen eye.
Which, Willow did possess. Thus, as she noticed Luke’s panicky manner, her agitation seemed to mellow down. Replaced with a peculiar form of pity - eyes filled with it, staring at the victim.
“Why would he mistake me for a social worker?” - She then inquired yet again, unable to understand the connection. Even though the general concept of the matter might already have been realized.
“There’s been a recently emerging practice or a method to deal with shut-ins. Since their number has been increasing quite a bit - mostly due to an addiction to Virtual Reality or other activities. All of which - a result of deteriorating social skills, in my opinion at least” - Luke started explaining in a roundabout fashion - delving into matters too deeply. A peculiar way to continue a conversation - since Luke did not seem to be completely dense. One might wonder if he tried to purposely scare or annoy Willow away. Regrettably - it didn’t seem to be working, since she looked attentively at Luke in silence, as if in anticipation.
One was not forthcoming, though, for finding a suitable place to munch-down on their successfully acquired nutrition took top priority – as the two continued through the city and into the local park in relative silence. Barely a word exchanged here and again.
Eventually - they managed to find an empty bench deeper in, the occasional tree towering above them – their branches keeping the receding glare of the sun away. Seeing this as an opportunity - the two took this chance by the horns and sat down. A fading conversation reigniting with new vigor.
“What the method entailed was - a social worker was to approach the future client in one way or another and manipulate him or her into leaving the confines of his or hers home. Such tasks are usually given to individuals of the opposite sex and preferably, with various attractive traits. Not necessarily looks - though those seemed to bring the best results. Especially regarding men - the simple creatures that we are” - At this point, the conversation turned into a monologue - as Luke got caught up in his own explanations. Either he really liked to talk, or rarely got the chance to do so. Unless it was himself, he was talking to.
Either way, once gain - luckily for him, Willow did seem interested. She munched on the hotdog in small bites, taking her time and carefully observing the side of Luke’s face. Perhaps - trying to catch his eyes that were staring off somewhere to the side. Of course - maintaining eye contact during a conversation was something Luke seemed completely incapable off. Thus it did not take place.
“And since we’re a peculiar combination - an impossible one in normal circumstances, that fellow could only make a conclusion with which he could live with. Thus you became a social worker. A kind-hearted spirit, who extends a helping hand for an abomination such as I” - With a smile, Luke finished - glancing at Willow for a brief moment. Most likely, uncertain if she was listening. Or was there to begin with. Since he was caught in his own little world during the whole lecture and would have probably missed it, if the listened left during the whole conversation. A peculiar self-preservation mechanism – clearly there to help Luke finish whatever he was trying to say without the fear of being ignored. After all, you did need someone who’d listen to you and in this case, in a weird way, it was he, himself. Seeing as in most cases that was exactly how the conversation turned out - him finding out that he was talking to no other than himself. Since those present were either preoccupied with vocal interactions between each other - or simply ignored his very presence. Usually - both. Hence, the insecurity.
Oh, the horrors of middle school and beyond.
“You said “simple creatures that we are”” - Willow suddenly asked out of the blue. She was listening after all - partly at least. Her reaction forced Luke to stare at her wide-eyed, with one eyebrow risen. Was that seriously all the info she caught? - “Does that include you?” - An intent stare - right into Luke’s eyes. Captivated, he couldn’t help but wonder if something was being expected from him. That thought gnawed at the insecure, inexperienced and lonely man without relent. An uncomfortable and unknown before feeling - none of which put him in a good mood. Thus Luke munched on the remains of his hotdog. Eating always did relieve stress.
Either way - salvation comes in unexpected forms, and thus it was in this case.
An arm dropped on Willow’s shoulders - which belonged to quite the character. A genuine pretty boy. Short black hair, obviously - cut fashionably. Or Luke guessed as much - since he did look quite good. Surprisingly - he wore matching colors with Willow. That’s right - all black. A black t-shirt -various morbid ornaments drawn upon it, with a few totally fashionably torn holes here and there. Luke still had a hard time understanding why the purchase of torn clothes would be considered a smart choice. Though, that’s probably one of the reasons he knew nothing about fashion, nor did he receive any pleasant comments regarding his own sense in it.
A black leather jacket covered his broad shoulders - accompanied by dark grey jeans. Unsurprisingly - with a few torn holes in them. He had clear blue eyes - the kind that stared right into your soul. Or so women would say - after getting lost in their beauty. Which resulted in a number of nonsensical explanations and such.
Face? 9 out of 10 without a doubt. Gentle, boyish features. With a drop of that manly brutishness. A visible tendency for violence and knocking someone’s teeth out
. Of course - Luke might be mistaken, since physical strength was another insecurity he possessed. Which resulted in a very similar mindset whenever Luke faced a man with a visibly healthier complexion.
Without paying too much heed to all those remarkably superior qualities - what caught Luke’s attention the most, was how overflowing with confidence that fellow seemed to be. As if every cell in his body had an overabundance of success and a drop of narcissism. Relaxed, confident in whatever the hell he did or the way he acted. This new arrival was definitely impervious to failure. Unlike Luke. What a sad fate - for Luke to find a clear opposite of himself, yet to be unable to declare him as a rival. Seeing as the difference in strengths was so apart, that Luke wouldn’t even be registered in the fellow’s radar.
As if to prove everything that went through the inner-mind of Luke - the new arrival affectionately hugged Willow. While trying to plant a lovely little smooch on her cheek. Like marking a possession or territory. As if to give a message. Quite the unexpected reaction came from the receiving party though.
“Are you stalking me again, Simon?” - Hollowly did Willows voice ring - her expression quickly fading into a blank, motionless one - eyes gazing pointlessly at a nearby tree. She lazily leaned away from the sudden attack. Sullen. Seemingly exhausted. Almost…submissive.
None of which sat well with Luke for some reason. He was too used to seeing her full of energy, anger and forceful tendencies. That’s the kind of person he disliked, yet felt somehow attached and used to. In a weird, masochistic kind of way.
Though the question that sprang up - did answer quite a few of his own. That explains all the heated accusations of himself being a stalker.
Either way - all the coldness served only to somehow, satisfy Simon. With a self-important, slightly sarcastic smile - he stared at Willow. Piercing her with that boundless stare of his. Threatening to drown the victim in them once they locked on. Only for a few moments though - as his gaze turned and met with Luke’s.
“Surprised your beloved social worker had a boyfriend?” - He asked in a teasing manner and quickly turned back to Willow, without waiting for a reply - “Since when do you work as one, anyway? I don’t remember seeing you studying or anything of the sort?” - Inquisitive fellow, wasn’t he?
This was the second person to make the same conclusion. Luke couldn’t help but wonder if his actual thoughts, previously presumed to be pessimistic - were actually quite close to reality. Thoughts of the impossibility on the unison between him and Willow. Or more like - the possibility of the two being somewhere - together. Not as a couple, but as acquaintances. Could it be that Luke was actually - a realist? He thought so at least, but there was always that little drop of doubt - brought in by the perception of others. Frequently carried across with eye signals, gestures or offensive phrases.
Or Simon simply stalked close enough to hear their interaction.
Knocked out from another ride in his inner-mind - Luke’s ears caught onto a continuation of a conversation between people of seemingly equal standing.
“First of all. Ex-boyfriend” - Willow slowly replied, with a slightly melancholic tone. Though her eyes did seem to regain a drop of life - as they slowly turned to meet Luke’s. That answer drew out a laugh from Simon though.
“Oh come on, you’re just saying that. It’s just one of your impulsive whims. Forgive and forget” - Simon quickly intervened - interrupting Willow in the middle of her speech. As her mouth was still open - ready to continue.
“Second of all. I’m not a fucking social worker” - She added, once her ex finally shut his mouth. Second after second - the life was without a doubt returning to this fury of a woman. Agitation now clearly being heard in her voice. Heck, even her expression was regaining its variations - cute little dark eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. At the moment though - her gaze was cast upon a nearby tree. Thus it seemed as if she was glaring at it - blaming for god knows what reason.
“That’s my feisty she-devil!” - Simon replied with a smile - for some reason happily embracing Willow once again. Or - he tried to at least. Since this time - Willow forcefully broke out of the hug and stood up. Leaving the poor pretty-boy all alone on the bench. Together with Luke. What rotten luck indeed.
Still - the whole situation seemed like a poorly carried out play. Luke’s nose caught a whiff of conspiracy in the air. Nothing concrete yet. Oh, that paranoia of his.
With an innocent laugh - seemingly attempting to smooth over the awkward atmosphere - Simon continued on with the nonsense.
“Now now. No need to get angry. You know me - I’m just joking around!” - He began, waving his hands about, defensively. Was it just Luke - or was there something he needed to catch on to? Like for example - how well Simon knew Willow and how they will soon get back together. How all of this was but a falling-out - short in length.
As if adding to that - Simon cast his glorious gaze upon poor, inferior Luke. Not a hint of hostility or anger in it. On the contrary - it was filled with pity. Or at least that’s what Luke managed to read out. Truth be told - Luke didn’t have very good eyesight. Nor was he good at reading others. Of course - Luke had to admit. Those were some lovely eyes.
Suspicion still gnawed at his insides though. How much of this was actually genuine? How much faked? In either of the cases - Luke still felt recognized. Either as a minor threat or as an object of pity. That in itself was without a doubt - a compliment in Luke’s eyes. Confidence boosted.
After quite the stretched moment of silence - Simon resumed the show.
“Him?” - He asked, after quickly turning to Willow once more. All the joking manner gone without a trace - “What is this? A date? You think keeping to lower-standards is safer?” - A mocking chuckle escaped his lips - “You think it’ll go anywhere? All you’ll do is scar him, before returning back to me. You know that just as well as I do. What’s the real purpose for dragging him along like this?” - Luke couldn’t help but wonder where did all the joking mannerisms go to? Or was it that Simon had quite a similar character in comparison to Willow - the main characteristic being impulsiveness and radical mood fluctuations.
A scary thought. As the atmosphere ended up toned down a few notches - Simon staring at Willow with quite the cold look. No more smiles, jokes or pleasant, even though pitying, looks. Yet - Luke had a hunch that even now - women would still get drawn into those blue eyes. Eye transplants were quite cheap this time of year…
Another thing that managed to catch Luke’s attention - was how seemingly toned down Willow was. Nothing like when she’s with Luke. Which did make him feel quite sad. Why? Because that would mean Luke was a mentally weak individual - a fear he had carried, yet kept on pushing to the side for a while now. Being dragged around wherever the female whims decided to. Poor Luke. Poor oppressed and used Luke.
“Lower standards? What kind of nonsense are you spouting, you stuck-up prick!? It’s not about the looks, they don’t matter at all! In this day and age, with a little money you can easily turn from ugly to beautiful” - Willow replied with a sudden flare. Though why did she specify Luke’s looks as an example of what low standards meant - was quite the hit beneath the waist. Why was everyone picking on him today? It’s not like it was Luke’s fault for being born with such inadequacies.
Either way - Willow probably though she was doing a favor. Defending poor little Luke in a way that actually served in the opposite manner.
“It’s about the personality, the character. Something you never had and never will. Your mentality and set of morals are insufferable - and that’s exactly why we broke up to begin with. So let go already. Stop following me around with the excuse of protection - just to serve your own personal agendas!” - Seems like quite a bit of pent up thoughts were loosed upon the world. Or upon Simon. You’d think that a former boyfriend would know how to play this instrument by now, yet he managed to walk into such an obvious landmine. Luke couldn’t help but twist his head from side to side in an exaggerated mann
er.
Though he did so mostly to keep his face from contorting into a hurt expression. Willow just basically stated that Luke had no character - or had one that was easily suppressed or easy to manage. Would she cut it out already? What boost in self-confidence Simon managed to provide, was already stomped to the ground. By someone who was supposed to be an ally in one way or another.
“Personality? Character? So you’re saying this guy is superior then me in that regard?” - Simon asked, in quite an unsatisfied tone.
Go Simon! He at least knew how to compliment another man. Or at least recognize another as a comparable subject. Self-confidence was boosted once again.
Though Luke had an uncomfortable premonition of what might come next. Since if things continue the way they are - Simon would simply went his anger by knocking his neighbor’s teeth out. Might be that it was his purpose for coming here from the get go. Who was manipulating who, and what agendas each carried - quite the labyrinth of possibilities. Luke was starting to feel dizzy. Certainly not due to the fear of being beaten up. He just had low blood-pressure.
During these thoughts - a sudden wake-up call brought Luke back. By the looks of it - he was lost for quite a bit, thus missed out on a part of the action. Since he was already being gripped by his color - with deep blue eyes closely inspecting Luke’s facial features.
“Character huh? Well seeing you up close, I doubt that’s going to be of much help. Life must’ve been hard on you, huh?” - Simon commented, while maintaining that intrusive stare of his.
Big mistake. Give it two or more minutes and he’d receive temporary blindness. Luke’s looks were a weapon in and of itself. Though, before any of that could take place - Willow decided to intervene.
Not help, physically - of course not. That was definitely not what Luke needed right now - while being held up by the collar - moments away from having his teeth knocked in. A renewed resentment towards the female sex momentarily resurfaced from Luke’s inner-psyche. This was an age of gender equality for fuck’s sake! Do something any man would do in this kind of a situation! If genders are equal, why can’t Luke expect the female to rescue the male? So unfair, was life.
