The work out didn't help.
She punched heavy bags off of there chains and into the wall. She lifted the heavy bar with some demonic amount of weight attached before slamming it into the ground.
Yet, she was still irritated and tired.
She tried so hard to work off that seething fury, but it merely hid beneath the surface. Even the scalding hot shower she took didn't help, the steam not calming her senses.
What the fuck was wrong with her?
Why did she think about the past?
It didn't matter anymore!
She left through the golden framed rotating doors of the condominium, rich wooden floors giving way to asphalt. Sunglasses shielded her eyes from the sun as she stomped off. The morning breeze offered no refreshment. She needed a coffee..no, she required the most robust espresso she can buy. She needed 5 shots of that same espresso covered only with a delicate foam of cream and shot directly into her veins. She held her black purse tightly close to her, trying to keep her face neutral as she made her way to the cafe. She opened the doors and cursed to herself, seeing the line of people. Of course, insects had to flock somewhere, and they infested her cafe. She shook her head, trying to calm down; her nerves alight while everything else was just so drained.
She sighed, groaning in disappointment as she made way towards the patio, looking forward to her chair before she froze.
Someone was sitting there.
Long brown bangs only hinting at blue sapphires underneath. A lean frame leaning back against the chair, pale lips curled into a slight smile as hehe read this book. The light gray jacket Tristan wore, combined with the thin blue shirt, did little to hide the muscular forms underneath.
She took another deep breath. Right. They were meeting today. A date over coffee. She cursed again, "Fuck it." She wasn't ready. She didn't want to see him. Not like this, not when her eyes threatened to fall while her nerves were in constant 'fight' mode. She was going to have to get rid of him. She wanted to be alone, in her chair, on her seat.
She stalked over to him, slowly, not wanting him to notice her just yet. It was effortless, how quickly she moved towards prey without them sensing her. She looked down towards him, parting her lips, "I don't think I gave you permission to sit here." Her voice was low, a warning. She at least kept her growl at bay.
He blinked, a little startled as he turned from his book. His smile widened as he looked up, "Good morning Ira-"
She scoffed, looking away, her left eye twitching as the pain shot up her left shoulder again. "Do I have to repeat myself?" Her eyes narrowed into a fiery glare, "I didn't give you permission to sit here."
His brow furrowed slightly, his smile fading, "Do I need it?" There was a slight storm in his eyes, a flash of annoyance.
Ira preferred solitude on her bistro throne.
She gave a little snort, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth, "Yes. This is my kingdom, right?"
Tristan's brow furrowed a little more, his eyes narrowing into a slight glare, that blue deepening as the storm flashed. However, his gaze softened, and he gave a soft sigh with a little smile. He set his book down onto the table, standing from his chair. However, instead of leaving, he turned towards her and lowered his head slightly, almost bowing, "May I sit here, Ira?"
Her eyes widened under her large sunglasses, her heart skipping a beat at his soft words. There was no mocking in them, no edge of annoyance. Just a simple request.
He was actually asking for permission. This caught Ira off guard. She gave a deep sigh, her eyes going from broad to narrow before closing. There was only one thing left to do here.
Ira laughed. A joyous, deep alto laugh escaped her lips. As she did so, all her nerves, each one that was jolting with fire, began to simmer down. The pain and strain from her limbless left shoulder subsided. Even her eyelids felt lighter. She heard his airy chuckle join her laugh and no longer did everything felt oppressive. The smell of blood and ash receded further into the darkness of her mind. Finally, she nodded, still shivering with a giggle, pulling off her sunglasses to wipe her tired eyes, "Yes. You may sit."
Tristan grinned, happy to hear such a sound from her as he sat back down, "I take it you had a rough night?"
She nodded, releasing a relaxed sigh. She placed her sunglasses into her purse before she sat down across from her date, "An absolutely shitty one." She groaned, laying her arm on the table, leaning her head against it, "I slept horribly." She looked up at him, her red eyes taking in his ocean-like depths before she looked away, a little ashamed, "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
Tristan tilted his head to the side and gave a slight shrug, "It's all right. You didn't sleep well." He chuckled, scratching his cheek with slight nervousness, "As long as I didn't cause it, I'm happy."
She smirked, turning her head to look up at him, "Oh, but wouldn't you want to be the cause of my sleepless nights, Tristan?" Her voice had a little edge, a different kind of fire kindling now.
Tristan felt his cheeks begin to warm at the implication. It was all teasing, but he couldn't resist, "I did not say that." He rested his cheek against his head, his eyes lidded a bit, "If sleepless nights were in the cards, I can't refuse."
Now her cheeks flared up; her heart pounding fast. She kept her gaze on Tristan as she whispered softly, "You're lying."
He chuckled, leaning forward, "To you? Never."
She groaned, turning her head to look at the tabletop instead, her forehead tapping against it. He was too much, she liked this too much.
She liked him too much. She dug her forehead against the tabletop again, trying to control the warm feeling in her chest. There was no way she was going to let him loose now. His chance of escape was gone.
She had to have him.