there's a spark in you, [ altair ]

Altair watched with cool eyes as the man across from her slid his arms around her waist, crooked smile tugging his lips. ”I haven’t seen you around lately…” he said, pulling her in. It was warmer here, pressed against him, but he smelled like tobacco and bad tequila. She rested her fingers on his chest. ”No, you haven’t,” she replied easily. He leaned in closer to her, and that was definitely tequila she was smelling. Altair had enough control that she didn’t wrinkle her nose. ”What can I do to change that?” he asked her, bruhing his nose against her cheek. They were next to her apartment building, against the chainlink fence. His bike sat idling on the side of the street. She missed her Ducati, but didn’t focus too much on it. Her sister was more important than her bike. ”Some cosmetic surgery and new clothes, that’s what you can do,” she said in a drawl, her British accent ever powerful. It was still her home, Canada would never be. No, she couldn’t think like that. She’d found her niche in the Academy, but still…she’d always yearn for more. Everyone did, after all.

She pushed him away, and he seemed stunned for a moment. Then he shook his head. ”All right, damn. On the fucking rag…” He had mumbled the last part, but she’d heard and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down so she could get in his face. ”What was that?” she asked in that too-calm voice. He sneered. ”Fucking PMSing bitch.” Without a word, she kneed him in the crotch before pushing him back. He was a big guy, there wasn’t too much she could do without hurting heself in turn. Especially since he wasn’t an elemental and she’d be putting herself in danger if she tried to burn him to a crisp. ”Guess I fucking am,” she said, walking away. ”Where you going? Back to the streets?” She flipped him off. Altair was changed, he was right about that. Frighteningly sober, she didn’t find him the least bit attractive. Therefore, she wouldn’t sleep with him. It wasn’t about the money anymore. It was certainly not a lack of self-respect that had allowed herself to fall into the lifestyle before. It was the lack of money, the lack of being capable of doing anything else. Her body was the best thing she had.

Her heels clicked against the pavement as she walked to Burger King, not wanting to go back and get her car. But it looked like that wouldn’t even be necessary, since he was following her. Shit. The girl didn’t pick up pace, just continued as normal. She pulled open the door a little more roughly than needed to the joint and ordered quickly, a burger and whatever the fuck else, then scanned the place. He was still in line. Her eyes caught sight of a girl sitting alone, and she headed to the booth, sliding in. ”Pretend like we’re talking,” she said. ”No, don’t even pretend. Actually talk.”[b/] She didn’t sound panicked, just tersed. God, she wanted this douche bag to go the fuck away. She couldn’t even turn to look at him lest they meet eyes. That would just make it worse. ”So that weather…” she started lamely, taking out her food and putting on a smile. He wouldn’t harrass her when she was with a ‘friend’, right?