Epics of Noche 1, Anchor

EON CH 83

CHILDHOOD FRIEND.

1774, OCTOBER 29th SATURDAY 3:05 am.

The stranger stood before Noche. His orange hair spike bobbed in the wind. Eyes wide and blinking, jaw slacked, and mouth opened. He wore a tan leather straitjacket with a giant metal screw in the center of his chest. It held down tightened leather in the patter of a red X. Three belt-like bands wrapped around each bicep and he wore knee guards that grew into spikes above his calves; with tips ending at his hips.

"Who are you?" Noche asked again.

Tears streamed down his face as his eyes locked with hers.

"I can't believe it," he muttered. "What is this bittersweet feeling?"

Noche took a step forward. "Do you recognize me?"

The man blinked and his change of expression was drastic. Tears stopped flowing as his face became apathetic.

"No... I... Sorry," he said. "The dust made me mistake you for... An old friend."

Noche narrowed her eyes.

"Names Noche – Noche L. Grim. What's yours?"

"M-Mr. Starnight."

"That's a mouthful. What's your first name?"

"I don't like my first name."

"Well now I gotta know."

"I really don't like-"

"-Come oooon," Noche grinned. "Tell meeeee."

"You're obnoxious you know."

"I don't care what I am – as long as I get my way."

A slight smile pinched the corner of his mouth before he sighed.

"I-Its... Its... Boots."

"Boots?"

His eyebrows tightened, his mouth curled down, and looked down as he nodded.

"Boots Starnight?"

He closed his eyes and nodded again – Noche exploded with laughter.

"Boots! BOOTS! Is that a nickname or legit your real name!" She wheezed. "Oh man, that name is incredible! What dumbass gave it to you?"

Boot's expression softened, brows fell, as hurt eyes shimmered towards her.

"Someone very dear to me," he said.

Noche stopped laughing and stared at him for a few moments, before looking away.

"Sorry... That was – I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright."

Silence hung between the two.

"I don't really like my name either," Boots said.

Noche's eyes flickered up.

"What's with your hair?"

Boot's face flushed.

"I-I can't really comb it."

"Man, that is a serious cowlick," Noche said. "It's practically a hair spike."

Boots groaned.

"Wait – you're in a straitjacket. Are you some sort of escaped convict?"

He stared at her for a few seconds.