What Not to Do (Kallisti)

[Seven]

His delay, seconds only as it was, behind Visha meant he could only follow the glimpse of platinum blonde hair as she slithered across Kallisti. He was relieved that she ducked into the washroom rather than heading straight for the exit. After confirming that it was unisex, which wasn’t as common in Moscow as he expected to find, he entered.

At first he thought she might be sick, but a patient thoughtfulness settled as he watched what happened. Gentle concern flickered his expression when she noticed he was there.

It quickly shifted to one of empathy. “Sometimes the champagne goes straight to my head too. I think it’s the carbonation. All the bubbles can settle poorly,” he approached, joining her at the next sink and rinsed his hands off while he looked at their shared reflection. His hair was tousled by the hurried path through the club, which he fixed behind his ears again.

“I find that it’s more likely when I haven’t eaten much that day. Would you like to get something to eat?” he asked as he offered her a towel from the nearby stack. Then he smiled and offered his hand. ”With me, in case that’s not obvious.” Then he picked up the bracelet she’d been clutching and offered to help slip it on her wrist.