House Party

[Nesrin Aziz]

When his hands took over the task, the relief Nesrin felt was immense. A glimpse at his face was not something he would have just volunteered to a stranger, so she knew it was her influence making him pliable to the suggestion. Wicked was younger than she might have guessed, his eyes big and adorable as they stared down at her. He was hot and flushed under there, and clearly frantic – not that she could blame him, though it made her wonder at the reason for his investment. It wasn’t like this was his place.

Nesrin tucked herself in close, silently promising it a secret kept just between the two of them. She wasn’t looking to out him amongst his peers – something she hoped he’d remember if he later questioned the moment. So she caressed the sheen of his cheek, letting her fingers trail a flirtatious sweep of his jaw, before pulling his mask back into place for him.

It was a heartbeat’s moment, all while the twilight zone party continued its calm exit around them, and with a hidden smile she shifted to move away after. The urge to leave had not diminished; if anything it had grown more insistent, and she didn’t fight it. Still, she was surprised when he took her hand, wherever he’d been going in such a hurry clearly forgotten. Perhaps she’d been a little over zealous after her earlier failure, or maybe Wicked was just particularly receptive.

She didn’t need a babysitter, but she didn’t resist his lead either. By now people were yelling and jerking, in pain or surprise, and he was tall; she was glad of the shield.