Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Flashy-thing: Valentine's Edition - 1. Chapter 1
“Luis.”
“Lu-is!” Roland clapped his hands loudly in front of my face.
“What?” I frowned, irritated at my colleague for being annoying again.
“Ever since you came back from your lunch break, you’ve been staring at the computer. Without working.”
“Huh?”
He pointed to the flashing white box waiting for me to type in my password. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing. I fell over a barefooted guy in the coffee shop, that’s all.”
“Barefooted? In February?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh. Was he cute?”
“Stunning.”
“Of course.” He tsked. “Only you’d manage to fall over a hot guy in the coffee shop on Valentine’s Day, of all days .”
“It wasn’t my fault. He was crouching on the floor, looking for a lost arrow.”
Roland’s raised eyebrows almost vanished behind his blond bangs. “An arrow? In the coffee shop?”
“It’s true!”
“Go away!” He scoffed. “And what happened then? He introduced himself as Cupid?”
“No, his name was Nathaniel.” I knew my colleague would explode.
Promptly Roland flung his hands in the air. “You drive me crazy!” After taking in a deep calming breath, he threw himself into the chair in front of my desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “Soooo, you’re actually telling me a stunning guy crouched on the floor in the coffee shop across our street, was looking for an arrow?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he dropped it?”
“Luis!”
“What?” I blinked innocently.
“God grant me patience.” Roland cast his eyes heavenwards in pretend desperation. After a while, he gestured with his right hand. “Go on.”
“Then I saw an arrow protruding from a gunny sack filled with coffee beans behind the barista.”
“Another arrow?”
“Yeah, that was the missed shot Nathaniel had been murmuring about.”
“He’d been murmuring about a missed shot?” Roland inquired. “While he crouched on the floor?”
“Yes, Nathaniel was inconsolable. Apparently, he was taking his exam today and, by missing the bartender, he flunked it.”
“Oookay. Let me repeat this: This Nathaniel guy you fell over in the coffee shop we all go to for lunch every day... dropped his arrow while shooting the barista for his exam? What degree? Assassin?”
“ Yep. I mean no!” I shook my head. “Not assassin.”
“No? And for whom was the second arrow? You know the one he dropped in the first place. For a guest? Or was it just a spare? I mean, just in case he dropped one.”
“Do you want to tell the rest of the story? Or should I continue? “
Roland quickly waved his hand around. “No, no. Go on, by all means.”
“The second arrow, because you asked, was for the other barista.”
“The other barista?”
“Yes. Are you going to repeat every word of mine from now on?”
Roland closed his eyes and shook his head, making a negating gesture with his hands. “Please continue.”
“Aany-way, then another barefooted guy, I think his name was Theo, came up, sniffed the air and growled ‘Brimstone’.”
Roland instantly opened his mouth.
“Shut it.” He actually did.
“Next, Theo called his boss. I don’t know how he did it, before you ask. Suddenly a petite guy dressed to the nines, with long fiery, red hair appeared. He looked around, then he dived behind the coat rack. After some wrangling, he pulled out a screaming, squirming red entity by his scruff, saying he’d have to have a few words with the A.I. commander soon. With that, he vanished.”
“Entity. Uh-huh. And then?”
“It turned out Nathaniel had been pranked. This particular i-- um entity-- seems to be the bane of their existence.”
“So, Nate was pranked while shooting the barista?”
“Exactly. Do you remember the Lord Of The Rings scene where Gimli pulls at Legolas’ bow and he accidentally kills that pirate instead of firing a warning shot? Something like that happened.”
“Luckily Nathaniel didn’t kill the barista, right?”
“I don’t think that’s possible. Now comes the fun part.”
“Only now?”
Roland can be really annoying sometimes. I continued anyway, as the story was too good. “Ayil, that was their boss’ name, by the way, came back and berated Theo for not being able to test his student properly without an imp incident right in the middle of the coffee shop.”
“Did you stay imp incident?”
“Yep, apparently the small red entity was an imp. Anyway, no one reacted to the scolding. But me. At first, they didn’t notice. Theo was apologizing to their boss profusely for disturbing his Valentine's Day dinner with some guy named Ariel, and I asked ‘Who’s Ariel?’.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t help it.”
“Typical. And then?”
“Ayil sighed, grumbled something about unnecessary complications and delays, led me to the side, placed his hands on my shoulders, and looked deeply into my eyes. Then I felt super dizzy.”
“So he flashy-thinged you with his eyes? I mean while we’re quoting movies. Men In Black much?”
“Flashy-thinged...that’s funny, Roland. So yes, he kinda flashy-thinged me. Theo persuaded Ayil to allow a repetition of the exam because of abnormal and unforeseeable circumstances beyond reasonable control or some such. After some haggling, Ayil granted it.”
“ And then?”
“And then Nathaniel asked me out. After his boss and Theo left. ”
“How could he do that? I thought his boss flashy-thinged you!”
I shrugged. “It didn’t work, and Nate noticed. He thinks it’s because Ayil was in a hurry to get back to his date.”
“A, let’s say, Cupid?”
I nodded. “You could say that.”
“A Cupid-in-training asked you out on Valentine’s Day? Even though you apparently shouldn’t be able to see him, let alone interact with him?”
“Yup.”
“Their boss will have to flashy-thing you again.”
“That’s right, young man. And because Luis told you the entire story, we will have to ‘flashy-thing’ you too,” said a redhead suddenly, standing in the doorway beside a tall, scowling Roman.
“Could you do it after our dinner?”
- 5
- 3
- 14
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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