I’d been told before that golden eyes didn’t exist. Mine were seemingly the only exception to that. However, with a regeneration ability that was also considered impossible, I never questioned the colour of my eyes. That is until I saw this man who shared the same hue in his iris.
As those eyes bore into me, I realised just how inherently unnatural that colour was. Compared to more typical colours, his appeared to lack a sense of humanity. I also couldn’t tell what this man wanted from it. With how vehemently he stared at him, it didn’t seem as though he’d just accidentally walked down the wrong street.
“Anthony Wright, aged twenty-three, passed away 273 days ago due to a bullet in his lower abdomen,” he started to say, carefully punctuating each word. His tone carried this harrowing quality to it. “But I’m sure you’re already aware of that.”
I narrowed my eyes at him with caution, my fist already beginning to clench. I didn’t recall seeing him at the funeral, which only made his knowledge about the situation more peculiar.
“And what’s that supposed to mean? Were you familiar with Mister Wright?”
“No, I’m just an observer like you,” he responded, his voice calm but carrying a hint of animosity.
“I’m unsure by what you mean, sir,” I said as my voice matched his harshness. “Could you speak more plainly, or are you unable to?”
“I just thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” he said with a scowl. It seemed my words grated him. “I didn’t think you’d be so ignorant in this new life.”
New life? Just what nonsense was this man going on about?
“Do I know you?”
“You should, unless you really don’t remember anything at all. And if that were the case, you’re more disappointing than I anticipated.”
Did this man know me? I certainly didn’t recognise him, but he spoke to me with a certain familiarity. And then there was that displeasure filling his eyes, almost darkening the golden glow from them. It’d been some time since someone had looked at me with such resentment.
“I’ll ask you again, are you unable to speak more straightforwardly-”
“What’s going on here?”
A familiar voice called out to us somewhere behind that man. It was him. I glanced over his shoulder and standing there was the very person I’d been searching for this entire time. Of course, he had to appear the moment I wasn’t actively looking for him.
But there was something different about the air around him. He wore this uncharacteristically stern expression as he took in the scene with a steady caution. I’d only seen that face when I had a gun pointed at his head.
“Nothing at all,” the golden-eyed man said, his eyes still fixated on me with a subtle glare. “I was just about to leave.”
Without saying another word to either of us, he turned around and walked past the blonde-haired man. Their gazes met briefly, his golden eyes hardening into a deeper glare at that man before he walked completely past him.
There was this inexplicable feeling of déjà vu that hit me. Something about that man was just familiar.
“Miss, are you alright? Did that fellow hurt you?”
I snapped out of my momentary daze as his voice reached my ears. I turned to him, my eyes already hardening. He’d walked towards me, his sternness fading into a look of concern.
“You did not have to intervene.”
He furrowed his eyebrows at me. “Well I apologise, I was unaware you enjoyed being harassed by random men at night. But you still didn’t answer my question, did he hurt you?”
“No,” I said with a small sigh as my fist finally relaxed. However, my mind was still running with thoughts about that encounter. “I’m fine.”
“Well thank God then. But I have to ask, what exactly are you doing out here? You’re not hoping to be mugged, are you?”
“I was looking for you.”
He stared blankly at me, blinking a few times as my words didn’t seem to register with him. He then pointed to himself with a raised eyebrow. “You were looking for me?”
“Yes."
“What on earth for?” he asked. “I can’t imagine why you would be running out on the streets just to look for me when you seemed so eager to leave last time.”
He wasn’t that wrong. I was already silently wondering if I should’ve even bothered as I was reminded just how exhausting it was speaking to him.
“I just wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what exactly?”
“For the directions you gave me before,” I said. While my voice was monotone, it was the truth. There was still a small part of me that wanted to thank him for the kindness he’d offered me when we were those trenched. But I knew I couldn’t. “They were useful.”
He stared at me, his eyebrows still raised with disbelief. I didn’t think there was anything particularly unusual with saying ‘thank you’. Had the manner I said it been socially inappropriate?
“Well, you’re welcome I suppose,” he said, his mouth curving upwards slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone seek me out so recklessly just to thank me for something so menial.”
To be honest, I also wasn’t exactly sure why I’d so impulsively sought him out the moment I saw him. I also couldn’t understand why he’d offered his help to me, or even why he interfered with that man earlier. I was a stranger to him, just as he was to me.
“While it was menial, that doesn’t diminish the value your help brought me.”
“While I think you’re exaggerating slightly, I’m glad I could help. I’m assuming that person you were visiting was rather important then?”
I nodded. I hadn’t expected it to be that important, but I didn’t regret it. His eyes remained on me through my silence, seeming curious about the details. But he didn’t push for more information.
“Well, if that was the case, would you let me ask you for a favour in return?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What is it?”
“Would you finally tell me your name?”
I blinked a few times at his request. Was that really all he wanted? Surely not.
“Why do you want to know?” I questioned, unsure why he’d want to waste a potential favour on something so insignificant. Did he have some other motive for wanting my name,
“Well, up to this point I’ve been calling you ‘Miss Sulker’ in my head,” he said, a teasing tone lacing his voice. “I figured I should start calling you something else unless you wanted a different nickname.”
My expression quickly became unamused at his response. Would he ever stop mentioning the nonexistent sulking I did that night. I was about to tell him I didn’t have a name until I remembered I did have one now.
“It’s Irene Davis.”
“Irene Davis,” he murmured, the words rolling smoothly on his tongue. It felt strange to finally have a name to introduce myself by, and even stranger to have someone say it out loud. “Jesse Callisto, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you.”
He extended his hand out to me, holding it out as he looked at me expectantly. I could vaguely recall seeing this gesture among some of the soldiers before. One of them would extend a hand and the other would move to grip it firmly before shaking it.
I assumed that this was what he was inviting me to do as well; so I brought my hand up to his before gripping onto it. His hand felt warm with callouses along his palm.
“Likewise.”
“You have a very firm grip, Miss Irene Davis,” he said, repeating my name as if he wanted to test it out loud again. I wondered if I was gripping too hard, but he didn’t show any indication of pain. After a few moments, he finally released his grip from mine.
“I’m afraid I must leave now,” I said, my hand returning to my side.
“Don’t tell me you’re already eager to leave, we’ve only just started talking.”
“I am though.”
He raised an eyebrow at my words. “Do you really have to put it so bluntly?”
“I thought you said my bluntness was refreshing.”
“You really do like using my words against me, don’t you?”
I sighed, unsure how long I’d be able to keep this up. “If you had to know, I ran from a company dinner when I saw you pass by so they’re expecting me to return soon.”
“I’m sorry, you did what?”
“I ran from-”
“No, I heard you the first time,” he said, eyeing me incredulously. There was a mix of amusement and disbelief on his face. “You probably shouldn’t have done that. Honestly, I don’t know what I would think if someone did that at one of my company dinners.”
“Is it rude to do so?”
“Yes, mildly so,” he said with a light chuckle. “Let’s hope this boss of yours won’t be too mad.”
While Davis being mad wasn’t an image I could easily imagine in my mind, I still made a mental reminder to apologise to him when I returned.
“Hopefully not, but I’ll take be going now.”
“I understand, though, I hope I’ll be able to run into you again soon, Miss Davis.”
Again.
Would we ever meet again? Was it even a good idea to risk such a thing? Regardless of any of that, he seemed quite sure we would, and that alone was a reason not to.
“Good night, Mister Callisto.”
That was all I said before turning around. I began to walk away from him, leaving him there as I made my way back to the restaurant.
When I returned, Davis seemed to be fairly distressed by my abrupt leaving. To my surprise, both Francesca and Alfred also scolded me for my actions. Hendrik didn’t seem to care.
“Why did you even run off like that?” Davis asked, seeming to have grown a few extra grey hairs in the time I left. I paused for a moment, considering how much I should tell them.
“I saw a man and wanted to speak with him.”
I don’t think my response did much to calm them down.
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