"I was wondering what kind of girl could have botched up a rescue attempt so badly. Now that I know it was you all along, everything makes sense."
"Go away."
Rome runs his nose down the side of my face, smiling at the way I shiver. "After all thes...
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THE SUPERS APPRECIATION BALL, LIKE MOST BALLS FILLED WITH ELITE CIVILIANS, HAS A LACK OF BOTH SUBSTANCE AND ENTERTAINMENT.
He lets his fingers graze the tip of the indoor Koi pond. Fishes, the color of candlelight, dart away in tiny rushes of panic. The pond lies in the main room, yet still far from the crowd. Gentle laughter and hushed gossip wash over him. He lets his hand linger in the water. One fish with black and white stripes is curious enough to circle his fingers.
Rome senses the man before he hears him.
"I would suggest against that action," William Blanc, whose family came from ancestors of royalty in old France, drawls. "Koi ponds are notoriously unhygienic. Haven't you read the article by Doctor Pierce. There are over three dozen types of germs within the water alone. And even with that bit of information, aren't they tacky and outdated? I simply cannot comprehend why he insists on showing off this pathetic display of waterworks."
The black and white fish darts away. Rome takes out his fingers, shaking the droplets away from the tips.
"You seem to have trouble doing that recently," Rome stands up, straightening his jacket. "Comprehending, I mean."
Blanc takes a sip of cognac before replying. "This is a Supers ball, Abernathy. Instead of lurking in the shadows like some lower-class creep, shouldn't you mingle and be appreciated?"
"Careful Blanc, you're looking a bit green," Says Rouge, turning away from a conversation he was having with a group of men. Surprisingly, Rome hadn't even noticed that he was there. "I'd say you still have a bit more appreciating left to do."
Blanc returns the sneer with one of his own, "And I suppose you expect me to worship your almighty superpower instead?"
Rouge has a Super Enhancement, meaning that one of his physical or mental abilities is stronger than that of an average being. In Rouge's case, it means that he can taste anything even if his tongue doesn't physical touch the object. Rome supposes that this may be useful at buffets.
"Salty," Rouge licks his lips. "You're sweating, Blanc."
"Your lies fools nobody."
"No, but the look on your face tells it all."
The conversation mildly amuses Rome. Usually, he would have joined in the dual of words, but his thoughts are busy elsewhere. They rotate between the MC Equator Base, Grease, and more recently - Winifred Hart. Cute Winifred Hart. Probably busy working on some chores back at the mansion right now, humming a song under her breath without realizing it.
Desire to go back there and talk to her itches at Rome. The envelope inside of his jacket pocket feels heavy. He's imagined the look on her face when he tells her the good news a couple of times now, but he knows none of it will come close to the real thing.
