At around a quarter past 5 o'clock, Cheryl and I exited Freakland's incredibly underwhelming house of mirrors, and she led us back to the parking lot. The limousine from earlier was waiting with a different chauffeur. I did not mention it, nevertheless it is a little odd. Maybe the owner of the limousine service is the one who owes her a favor and not our previous driver..? Or maybe it is a chain reaction of outlaws doing favors for one another? Either way, we are sitting at the back of the vehicle, and it is rolling away from the amusement park.
I rub the strap of my plastic wristband between my right forefinger and thumb. I held out my left arm at the amusement park, when the employee at the entrance fastened the showy yellow bracelet around it. These types of cheap bracelets are annoying enough on their own, but they are the epitome of unbearable when they are placed on one's dominant hand. I despise feeling hindered in my movements by small objects, such as jewelry. Therefore, I chose to keep all the troublesome accessories grouped together on my left wrist. And by all, yes, I mean a single watch and a centimeter wide band of bright itchy plastic.
My acquaintance giggles, telling me, "Here."
She reaches underneath her left boob, up her cropped burgundy shirt, pulling out a pocketknife with conspicuous ease. She nimbly sits to face my profile, leaning over my shoulder and latching her free hand around my left forearm from its underside. She gently lays my arm down into my lap, brandishing her exposed knife in a worryingly loose hold. Her emerald eyes review my inner arm with an intense concentration, before she suddenly brings the blade down, inserts it between my skin and the bracelet, then snaps it upward to cut through the cheap material. The Freakland wristband yields immediately, and she pinches it with her slender fingers, letting go of me and throwing it away in record time.
Tucking the switchblade away into its hiding spot once more, Cheryl is perceptibly preparing to ask me something.
"So, where would you like to eat? What do you feel like? Italian? Seafood? I know a really bad taco place..!"
"Anything sounds good. Except the bad tacos, unless you..."
She interrupts me: "I'm gonna stop you right there, Peanut. You're unbelievable! This is your birthday dinner. Lucky for you, I already got us a reservation at 'Herb's Platters'."
"Cheryl!" I interject, "Isn't that place kind of expensive? Not to mention, I'm not dressed for a nice restaurant..."
Truthfully, my outfit is considerably more "proper" than hers, if judgement had to be made. My main concern is the enormous amount of money she appears to have spent into today's outing. Additionally, 'Herb's Platters' is renowned to be crawling with dubious clients, although that is quite frankly the case with every establishment around town.
Cheryl flips her hair behind her shoulders, peevishly chiding me: "How about you stop worrying so much, hon? Trust me, no one's gonna be lookin' at your clothes. Not with such a pretty face."
"Hm, mine or yours?" I tease her.
"Whaddaya think?"
I chuckle, ready to change the subject.
"Did you call me 'peanut' a minute ago?"
Laughing ecstatically, she needs a couple of seconds before she gives me a reply.
"Yeah. You like it, I hope?"
"I mean, it's... Just, why 'peanut'?" I smile, half-embarrassed.
Perchance I should have ordered food that is not peanut flavored in front of her, at least once.
"I think it's fitting. You love peanuts, after all! And you know..."
"What?"
I smirk, and she nips at her lower lip.
YOU ARE READING
Fascinating Villains
Action[ONGOING] "You're delusional. I should've seen it before..." ~~~~~~~ Tanza is an agender paramedic. They rely solely on themselves, and the last thing they need is for an incredibly attractive supervillain to disturb their (relatively) quiet existen...
