Given the choice, Naseem would prefer not to deal with Zahir’s bitching before noon, and certainly not before a stiff drink. Unfortunately, a new home came with new hiding places to find. She had yet to set up residence in a local watering hole, and she and Zahir usually kept close to one another before establishing a base of operations.
Zahir, being boring, and also an asshole, had tried to argue that they needed to lay low and find somewhere they could keep one ear to the winds and the other close to the ground. Naseem, being far wiser and not a total boring loser, had persuasively and deftly argued the case for instead finding a local drinkery to replenish their spirits in. (The tried and tested method of being impossibly annoying until Zahir gave in had yet to let her down.)
And hey, the sun was shining, and this new home filled with natural beauty at every turn. She walked along the beachfront humming a victory march, a swagger in her step. Today was going to be a good day. She could just feel it.
“It’s hot,” Zahir whined from behind, huffing in a way he did only in Naseem’s exclusive company. Ae was lagging, cane unsteady on the sand, the heat and humidity leaving aer face sticky and aer usually immaculate makeup sagging. For two seconds, Naseem felt bad for insisting, both on Torchline and on the bar. Then, up ahead, he glimpsed a shimmer of golden hair shining white in the sun. Like a moth to a flame, he couldn't look away. At once he forgot any guilt or regret he'd let creep in.
“We’ve got company,” Naseem breathed, remembering how new places meant new people, new excitements, a thousand new pleasures to discover and brand new people to find them in. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Zahir immediately straighten, the exhaustion wiped clean from aer pose and expression; ae was The Fixer again, meticulously put together, unbothered by heat, unevening footing, anything pesky nature could throw aer way. Naseem grinned. She could feel herself go loose, shoulders back, the drawl fill her throat ready to honey words, all the old habits slipping lovingly back into place. She had her foil, and ae aers.
Deep breath. Big smile— “Heyyyyyyy,” Naseem called out in a weighty drawl, jogging out across the sand to the stranger with the big blonde hair, catching sight of the second figure as she went. Oh dear: both were gorgeous. However would she cope? She came to a halt a few meters from the pair of them, disinterested in the wreckage about her, eyes only for these two guardian angels who would lead her to a good time. “Hi. Hello. I was wondering if you could tell me where The Hanged Man is? New in town. And maybe I could buy either of you - or both - a drink…?”
Zahir, being boring, and also an asshole, had tried to argue that they needed to lay low and find somewhere they could keep one ear to the winds and the other close to the ground. Naseem, being far wiser and not a total boring loser, had persuasively and deftly argued the case for instead finding a local drinkery to replenish their spirits in. (The tried and tested method of being impossibly annoying until Zahir gave in had yet to let her down.)
And hey, the sun was shining, and this new home filled with natural beauty at every turn. She walked along the beachfront humming a victory march, a swagger in her step. Today was going to be a good day. She could just feel it.
“It’s hot,” Zahir whined from behind, huffing in a way he did only in Naseem’s exclusive company. Ae was lagging, cane unsteady on the sand, the heat and humidity leaving aer face sticky and aer usually immaculate makeup sagging. For two seconds, Naseem felt bad for insisting, both on Torchline and on the bar. Then, up ahead, he glimpsed a shimmer of golden hair shining white in the sun. Like a moth to a flame, he couldn't look away. At once he forgot any guilt or regret he'd let creep in.
“We’ve got company,” Naseem breathed, remembering how new places meant new people, new excitements, a thousand new pleasures to discover and brand new people to find them in. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Zahir immediately straighten, the exhaustion wiped clean from aer pose and expression; ae was The Fixer again, meticulously put together, unbothered by heat, unevening footing, anything pesky nature could throw aer way. Naseem grinned. She could feel herself go loose, shoulders back, the drawl fill her throat ready to honey words, all the old habits slipping lovingly back into place. She had her foil, and ae aers.
Deep breath. Big smile— “Heyyyyyyy,” Naseem called out in a weighty drawl, jogging out across the sand to the stranger with the big blonde hair, catching sight of the second figure as she went. Oh dear: both were gorgeous. However would she cope? She came to a halt a few meters from the pair of them, disinterested in the wreckage about her, eyes only for these two guardian angels who would lead her to a good time. “Hi. Hello. I was wondering if you could tell me where The Hanged Man is? New in town. And maybe I could buy either of you - or both - a drink…?”
