Two Hearts

Chapter 2 - Lost Glory

Six months passed with Emily working for Bhehre. He knew her routine very well at this point. The human was predictable in her patterns.

Emily would arrive early. She would then spend time in the bathroom before coming out to set up the tables. When patrons started rolling in she would greet them and take their orders, engaging in friendly banter with the Yautja, even when she'd come back from the kitchen with their orders.

This human had proven to be professional and a worthy employee.

Bhehre liked to watch her move around the bar like the graceful little creature she was. He would have to drag his eyes from her swaying hips as she sashayed about. If he had been a younger more worthy male then he felt he would've already tried preening for her, despite the difference in their species.

He had seen her turn down an Elite months ago. The sight was surprising.

Instead of cowering down before the Elite, she stood her ground. Seeing that made his decision to hire her easy. Right on sight he decided to have her work for him. She could stand up to an Elite so that meant she could stand up to anyone.

It was a quiet night and the clientele, along with the cook, had left for the night when he caught her mopping the floor.

Ever since the day he met her, she had kept her hair braided and pinned in a bun on her head, her yellow hair neat and orderly, just like the way she kept her clothing — conservative and minimal. This time, however, her hair was down and loose from her braids. The tresses hung to her mid-back in loose waves, the locks shining in the low ambient lighting of the bar.

The longer one's locs were, the more attractive they were.

Her hair was making his thwei boil with want. Something that was...new.

Recently new.

He wondered why she kept her hair pinned up. Did she not seek the attention of a potential mate? Was this some human thing?

Bhehre clenched his hands and busied himself wiping down the bar. On both sides. Something that wasn't necessary but allowed him to keep an eye on her as she obliviously cleaned the floor.

"Emily." The Yautja called, waving his hand for her to come forth.

"Yes?" Said female snapped her head in his direction. She set the mop back in its container and dragged it behind her.

The floor was finished. Every inch of the wooden floor was cleaned to a nice shine. Perfect. Just like her attendance, her work ethic, and the appearance she upheld.

It was almost clinical.

A mystery hidden beneath.

Emily, dressed in a white button down shirt and black clean cut slacks, perched herself on a stool at the bar with her feet tucked beneath her. She seemed to realize her hair was down and started to braid it while she waited for Bhehre to speak.

He leaned his arms onto the bar, "Why do you keep your hair pinned in such a way? What is the purpose?"

She seemed taken aback. Her eyes, an earthy brown, cast down briefly before meeting his.

"It stays out of my face. My hair tends to get in the way."

"What do you call its color?"

"Blonde."

Testing the word on his tongue was awkward but he got it right on the second try. He harrumphed in victory, making her giggle. That sound was so rare from her but he liked it. He wanted to hear it more.