The man removed his helmet; his sweaty black hair stuck to his forehead, partially covering his eyebrows and droopy eyes.  He flashed us a playful grin, lifting the dark circles under his eyes.

He tilted his head and cracked his neck several times.  I caught a glimpse of several scars on his neck as he stretched. 

[Urgh. It's the angsty guy.]

Messy black hair, red eyes, a sick neck tattoo, black knight armor, rusty sword...this guy was a physical manifestation of angst. The distant and melancholic expression really brought it all together.

His face relaxed after his post-high-speed-chase neck stretches. He nodded politely to greet Ubir and Sheraton. After they acknowledged him, Darq plunked down next to me with a clang, and the couch squeaked in protest. 

"Hi," I greeted him with a slight wave.

"Hey, you—" he took a sudden breath, his nose twitched...

AAHH CHOO!

...and an explosion of breath and spit sprayed me square in the face.

"Bless you!" exclaimed Ubir.

Ubir, you traitor!

"I-I-I am so sorry! Let me grab my handkerchief and—" I heard him rustling around.

Sheraton quickly cleaned my face with a hand towel, and I was able to open my eyes to glare at the hulking biohazard.

"I'm going to pretend that that never happened. Anyway, stop stalking me, Your Grace."  I accused him, arms crossed.

"What? No! I mean, I'm not stalking you!" he added, "I have business here!"

"Why were you tailgating us then? My seatbelt cut into my shoulder, thanks to you," I asked as I lifted the hand towel.

Some blood trickled down my arm as I let up the pressure. Luckily, it looked a lot worse than it felt. 

Darq glanced down and gasped. I instinctively recoiled when his massive steeled hand reached for me.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you. I was in a hurry, and we happened to be going the same way. I didn't know it was you until you leaned out and waved at me! It was hard to judge distance with my helmet on. I didn't mean to tailgate you..." He prattled on while fidgeting with the red plume on his helmet. 

"So...why did you threaten me with your sword and men?"  

He took a deep breath and let it out before he tried to sniff discreetly with a half-assed smile plastered on his face.

"...W-what you were doing was dangerous!! I was waving for you to get back into the carriage. I would never threaten you. Never! Never ever..." His face reddened as he explained himself.

Darq continued with his explanation, "and as for my men, they were driving empty wagons. I am here to get stuff for the war."  He paced around with his hands behind his back.

A servant came in and served tea and snacks as we waited for the couple. 

I reached for the purple grape tart,  but Darq's giant gauntlet beat me to it. Our eyes met after my hand bumped into the cold hard steel armor. His paused.

"Oh...you can have it. I know how much you like grape snacks," he placed his hand over my open palm and handed me the tart. Purple goo and pie crumbs dropped on my hand from his gauntlet.

squish plop plop

He panicked and started stuttering an apology to me while furiously digging in his pocket for something. I rubbed my forehead with my clean hand and groaned at his incompetence. 

Sheraton took my hand and gently wiped my hand with a towel. Her calloused fingers dextrously cleaned the grape jelly. White lint dusted my sticky hand; it served as a reminder not to touch my face or dress. 

I thanked her and quietly turned my attention back to Darq.

His shoulders slumped down as he took off his gauntlets. I couldn't help but notice that his ears turned bright red in shame. 

You get an F for effort, Darq.

Something hot and wet was wiping my fingers; Sheraton must be using a hot damp towel to clean off the stickiness.

Darq stared at me; his eyes darted to the side and back at me as his face grew even redder than before.

Hot...wet..towel...right? I turned my head and witnessed something that would haunt me for a while. Sheraton ran her tongue slowly down my finger while holding my hand and wrist.  She switched her attention from her work and stared at me blankly as if she wasn't doing anything weird at all.

WHY IS EVERYONE HERE BATSHIT INSANE?!

I instantly retreated to the end of the couch, clutching my wrist with my clean hand. "SHERATON, WHAT THE HELL??" I cried out and quickly looked to the ground. 

I am taking back employee appreciation day!  I'm going to hold a team meeting on sexual harassment in the workplace instead.

She bowed her head, "I apologize, my lady. I didn't want you further to stain your dress or accidentally dirty your face. Please punish me for my transgression."

"I-it's ok. Just don't do that again. I'm fine with waiting until I can use the restroom to rinse my hands. You don't have to go to such lengths for me." I stuttered as I wiped my hands with a fresh towel. 

Yeah, this is not ok. But I don't want to get stabbed, so I'll pretend like it never happened. 

"Yes, my lady." 

The tension was palpable; nobody knew what to do.

Finally, Darq picked up a tiny teacup with his shaky hand. The cup slipped through his sweaty hand and shattered, shattering the tension with it. I laughed as the tea dribbled down the tasset of his armor. 

I felt terrible for the guy for a moment, but then I remembered that he had given my team a panic attack by threatening us with a sword on horseback. And he ruined the only purple tart, which led to the awkward incident that I will never speak of again. 

I tossed him a clean hand towel because he looked so damn pitiful. 

Eyebrows raised, he inspected the towel in his hand. He touched the embroidery and smiled. He proceeded to mop the mess before the servants could tend to it. 

Shit. That's the one with my dad's face on it. 

"Cute mushroom, did you embroider it yourself?" Darq said as he inspected my work.

I ignored him.

After neatly folding the hand towel, he stuffed it in his pocket under his armor. 

Ew, at least wring it out before you stuff it in your pocket, you weirdo.

Our attention turned to the doorway when Wolt and his basement pet entered a few minutes later.