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    Katya Dee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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. 

The Year of the Salamander - 3. Chapter 3

Sam slowly drank his cappuccino, looking at several books at once. He was trying to figure out which one to get. At first, he decided to get all of them – those were art books, and he loved art. Then he looked at them more closely and realized that quite a few pictures in all the books were the same. Therefore, he was sitting by one of the round tables in the bookstore’s café, all but scratching his head for the last hour or so, trying to figure out which book would be the best choice.

He blinked when nothing came out of his cup and took off the plastic lid. He tutted with slight annoyance when he realized that the cup was empty – there was nothing left but foam. Sam liked foam, so he licked off as much as he could, and finally, threw the cup into a trashcan that was sitting conveniently close to his table. He looked at the books, sighed, and got up, thinking of getting another cappuccino. He was slowly walking towards the café counter, digging in his pockets for money, and concentrating on that task mostly. He didn’t even look up until he ran into someone rather hard and somebody’s heavy books landed on his toes.

“Oh, God!” someone exclaimed almost panicky. “God, I am so sorry! I didn’t even look where the hell I was going! Are you all right? I am so sorry...!”

Sam blinked and lifted his gaze from those damn books that made several of his toes go unpleasantly numb. It was a young woman who bumped into him; she seemed to be no older than twenty-one, maybe even less. Her frame was rather small, and Sam blinked again. “How in hell was she able to carry all those books?” he thought dumbfoundedly.

“Are you all right?” she asked again with genuine worry, her fingers mercilessly tugging on a strand of her dark-bronze hair.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded finally. “Yeah, I am all right, don’t worry about it... I wasn’t looking where I was going either so it’s all good...” he shrugged with a smile, and her frown smoothed out somewhat.

“Okay,” she nodded with a visible relief and let go of her hair, tucking the strand behind her small ear. She lowered herself into a crouch and started picking up her books.

Sam immediately started doing the same.

“Here,” he said, grabbing several heaviest-looking volumes off the floor. “Let me get those...”

Young woman (a girl, really) looked at him with a quick smile, which looked even more relieved than her nod a minute earlier.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, and Sam nodded with a small smile.

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “Those books are heavy,” he said after placing them onto the table. “How in the world were you able to drag them all the way here?”

“With lots and lots of silent cursing,” she said seriously, and Sam laughed at that. “I am serious,” she nodded energetically. “That’s why I wasn’t looking where I was going... God, I am so sorry about...”

“Don’t worry about it!” Sam interrupted her with an impatient hand wave. “Let me help you with all these books... Are you buying all of them?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she sighed. “I will probably end up buying a couple of them, but I am not sure which ones...” She glanced at the café. “I wanted to get a cup of coffee and look through all of them...” She grinned, and that made her look even younger. “Coffee makes my brain function a hell of a lot better!”

Sam hemmed at that.

“Funny,” he said with a smile. “I was doing the exact same thing...” he nodded at his table with a small pile of art books on top of it. “I was on my way to get another cappuccino because I couldn’t figure out which book to get...”

“Oh, yeah?” she wrinkled her nose. “You like art?” she asked after looking at his books.

“Love it,” he nodded seriously. “The thing with these books is that all of them have quite a few pictures that are the same, you see... So I was trying to figure out which one would be the best choice...” He looked at her books. “Magic...?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh,” she sighed. “I know nothing about magic... Unfortunately,” she added in a second. “I am beyond amateur... But I have to write an essay on the early history of magical arts and a rapid development of usage of the streams, which...” She stopped talking when she saw his expression. “Oh, never mind!” she laughed. “Believe me, the topic is insanely boring, but it’s my core class, so I don’t really have a choice in the matter...”

“What is your major?” Sam was genuinely curious.

“History,” she nodded. “I love history; couldn't care less about this particular class...” she nodded at the books. “...but I love history,” she finished with another nod.

“Would you like to look at the books together?” Sam offered, and she slightly bit her lip, and finally, nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” she said and smiled. “Sure! I am Evelienne,” and she stretched out her hand. “Call me Eve,” she nodded when she noticed his blink. “Believe me, I keep asking my parents why the hell they gave me such a bizarre name every single weekend. I prefer to pester them on weekends because this way, they don’t have an ‘I have to go to work’ excuse,” she nodded again, and Sam laughed.

“I am Sam,” he shook her palm and liked her strong grip. “Let me get your coffee!”

“Are you kidding me?” she snorted. “I am the one who should get you coffee! After all, I am the one who almost broke your feet...! I didn’t break anything, did I?” she added quickly, a worried frown snaking its way back onto her forehead.

“No,” he laughed again. “But I would like to get your coffee... You should do me that favor,” he nodded thoughtfully. “After all, you almost broke my feet...”

She laughed at that loudly, and quickly covered her mouth with her palm.

“Man,” she glanced around. “I can never control my laughter... I am always too loud,” she sighed. “I always get yelled at in libraries and such...”

“Cream or sugar?” Sam asked seriously, even though he felt like laughing. He liked this girl. She sighed in defeat.

“Plenty of cream,” she nodded. “No sugar.”

“Okay,” he said simply and walked to the café counter.

When he got their drinks and returned to her table, he realized that she managed to push both of their tables together and now all their books had enough space.

“Good thinking,” he said and handed her the cup.

“Thank you,” she nodded seriously. “For the compliment too,” she added.

“Wasn’t a compliment,” he shook his head. “True statement.”

“Okay,” she drank some coffee. “I’ll bite... So,” she looked at the pile of his books. “Which one has the most amounts of repetitive pictures in it?”

“This one,” Sam immediately pointed at one of the volumes. “But it also has several pictures that I really like, which are not repetitive at all...”

“Hmmm...” she said thoughtfully. “That makes it more difficult...”

“I’d say,” he agreed. “I am thinking of just getting all of them. Would be easier!”

“Probably,” she said with doubt. “But maybe you could discard one of them... Let me see...” she picked up one of the books and studied it for a minute or so. “Hmm...” she said finally and grabbed another one. “Okay,” she said after another minutes of thoughtful silence. “This is challenging...” She glanced at Sam. “I like it!” she nodded energetically, and he laughed.

 

...They sat in the café until they heard an announcement from the speakers that the store would be closing in fifteen minutes. Sam blinked and looked at his watch. It was fifteen minutes to ten, he realized with surprise. Eve copied his movement and expression to a t, without even noticing it.

“Good God!” Eve said in an almost shaken voice. “I was supposed to start on that stupid essay tonight!”

“Sorry about that,” Sam said quickly, and she waved her hand.

“No big,” she said carelessly. “It’s not due until next Friday, and I am the queen of procrastination, so nothing new!”

“I’ll just get all of them,” Sam shrugged and picked up his books. “What about you?”

She thoughtfully looked at her volumes for a few seconds. Finally, she grabbed two of them (smaller ones) and stood up.

“These will do,” she nodded.

“Need help with those?” Sam asked seriously, and she shot him a dirty look.

“Just how helpless do I look, exactly?” she asked in a low voice, and Sam simply nodded solemnly. She snorted rather loudly and immediately glanced around with a guilty look on her face. “I am fine,” she said finally, after making sure that she didn’t draw any angry attention to herself. “Thank you though,” she added with a nod.

He looked at her thoughtfully for several seconds.

“What?” she frowned with puzzlement after he just stood there, saying nothing.

“Would you like to have coffee again sometimes?” he asked finally. “Without the books?”

Now it was her turn to eye him thoughtfully. Finally, she nodded.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I’d like that...”

“Great,” he smiled widely. “Let’s get the books!”

“Ummm...” she said, and he looked at her with a silent question. “Would you like my number?” she asked in a low voice, and Sam blinked. ‘Duh!’ was the only thought in his head right now. He couldn’t believe that he didn’t ask for her phone number. He would’ve slapped his forehead but his hands were full with books, so he just smiled sheepishly instead.

“Yes, please,” he said mildly, and she grinned and set her books on the table once more.

She dug in her backpack for a minute, fished out a pen and a small notebook, wrote something on one of the pages, and ripped that page out. Then she carefully folded the paper and tucked it into Sam’s shirt pocket.

“Thank you,” Sam said as mildly as before. “Let’s get the books...”

 

...They got the books in less than ten minutes, and he walked her to her car. She unlocked the door and shoved her backpack and the bag with books into the back seat.

“Thanks for coffee, Sam,” she said when she straightened up. “Sorry about your toes,” she added quickly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow...?”

“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “Will you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded seriously. “I will...”

“Okay,” she smiled as well and stretched out her hand. “Good night, Sam...”

He shook her warm fingers.

“Good night, Eve,” he said, and she flashed him another smile, got into her car, and drove away, after giving him a small wave.

He watched her car drive out of the parking lot, and then made his way to his own vehicle that was the only car in the lot by now.

 

****

 

When he got home, it was almost 10:30. He saw that the lights in the living room were on, and slightly winced, wondering if Gabriel or Desmond would start interrogating him about where the hell he was so late at night. It wasn’t that late, he knew that, but he would always be home no later than nine in the evening before. He carefully opened the door and walked inside. Specter immediately bounced towards him full speed. Desmond and Gabriel were playing cards, and judging by a pile of bills in front of Desmond and a gloomy expression on Gabriel’s face, the ex-assassin was on a hell of a winning streak tonight. Both men glanced up at him and nodded simultaneously without saying anything. Sam relaxed and bent down to kiss Specter’s wet nose.

“Kid,” Desmond sighed after Sam did that and after Specter frantically licked his face. “You do know what he does with that tongue, don’t you?”

“Yeah, well,” Sam shrugged. “You also know what Gabriel does with his tongue, but you still kiss him, don’t you?”

Desmond hemmed and looked at him with a smirk.

“Rayhe doesn’t lick his own...” he started saying when Gabriel thumped him on the head.

“Shut up,” he commanded, and Sam laughed. He looked at Desmond more closely and narrowed his eyes.

“What?” Desmond asked him absent-mindedly, watching Rayhe like a hawk when the other man reached for another card.

“Are you glowing?” Sam asked with stifled laughter. Desmond blinked and looked at him. “You are glowing!” Sam nodded and looked at Gabriel. “Holy crap, you are both glowing! Good God, how many times a week do you do it?! I heard you going at it last night...! And the night before... And the night before that... And...”

“Don’t make me buy you more ear plugs, kid,” Desmond interrupted him in a very dangerous voice and stabbed his cigarette in the ashtray. Sam shook his head.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully. “Usually, when people live together for a couple of years, they kinda cool off... Not completely but kinda...” he shrugged when he saw Desmond’s look. “Well, from what I’ve heard, anyway,” he said without feeling a slightest bit uncomfortable. “But you two...” he grinned. “I swear, you do it more often than you did two years ago!”

“We do, actually,” Gabriel nodded thoughtfully, and now, it was Desmond’s turn to thump him. Rayhe winced slightly. “Well,” he shrugged. “It’s true...! Okay, knock it off!” he winced again. He glanced at Sam sideways. “I can’t get enough of this bastard...” he shifted his gaze to Desmond. “Thump me again, and you are dead!” he promised in a low voice.

“Wasn’t going to,” Desmond grinned. “Call!”

Gabriel blinked at that very rapidly and looked at his cards.

“Son of a...” he growled and threw his cards on the table. “That’s it,” he said gloomily while shoving more bills into Desmond’s outstretched hand. “I am not playing any more tonight... Tough...!” he added after seeing his mate’s expression. “I am done with losing for tonight! I will get my money back tomorrow,” he nodded, ignoring Desmond’s snort. “Black stripe, that’s all...”

“Right,” Desmond muttered and swiped the bills off the table in one smooth move. “So, kid...” he paused and lit a cigarette. “Where the hell have you been so late at night?”

Sam coughed. He figured that there would be no interrogation this evening.

“It’s not that late,” he said reasonably. “It’s not even eleven yet...! At the bookstore,” he sighed after seeing Desmond’s look.

Desmond pointedly looked at Sam’s empty hands, and the young man sighed again.

“Left it in the car,” he said mildly. “Hold on...” he rolled his eyes and went outside to get his books.

He came back several minutes later and handed the bag with the books to Desmond. The older man looked inside, studied the receipt for a bit, and then hemmed.

“You did buy these at five minutes before ten,” he said, returning the bag to Sam. “Met someone interesting?”

“W-why...?” Sam stuttered.

“Because you are glowing,” Desmond said poisonously. “Spill, kid!”

“There is nothing to spill,” Sam shrugged and grabbed the bag out of Desmond’s hands. “I was trying to figure out which book would be the best to buy, that’s all... Then I decided to buy all of them,” he nodded after seeing Desmond’s expression. It seemed like the ex-assassin tried his best not to roll his eyes. “Things like that take time, you know!” he said defensively, having no idea why he didn’t want to tell either man about Eve.

“Right...” Desmond muttered and lit another cigarette. “That dog of yours is fed, by the way,” he added after a second, and Sam stared at him without blinking.

“Oh dear God...” he muttered. “You fed him...?”

“As if,” Gabriel snorted immediately. “I did.”

Sam blinked.

“Thanks, Gabriel...” he nodded. “Well, good night guys... Specter, come on!”

The dog dropped his unfinished bone and ran after Sam into the bedroom. Sam was ready for bed fifteen minutes later, after he brushed his teeth and found his pajamas. Specter immediately jumped up on the bed and curled next to Sam’s feet.

“Just don’t do it on the couch,” Sam muttered. “I don’t think Desmond would be ecstatic about that...”

Specter shoved his nose under Sam’s left foot and let out a deep, satisfied sigh. Sam closed his eyes and was about to slide into sleep, when he heard muffled moans from behind the closed door. He opened his eyes and blinked several times.

“You gotta be kidding me...” he muttered and plopped a pillow on top of his head.

©Katya Dee; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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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