Thief in the Twilight

Revelations

I am meticulous about not killing my newest recruit, or should that be student, with a look. It's not El's fault I hate the world in this moment. No, all the blame for that lands firmly on my own head. Maybe I could kid myself into shifting part of the guilt onto her or Kris, but that would be a lie, and deep down I know it.

My reasons for hating all the sunshine, bird song and perky people milling about are simple. I got far too little sleep last night and no amount of caffeine or more interesting stimulants is going to help. Not even the delicious cup of Turkish coffee before me. As much as I might want it to.

I sigh, watching as El makes her way down the street, expertly weaving past the few mid-morning pedestrians on the sidewalk. It's just late enough that kids are in school and moms are done with the post-school-run shop. Furthermore, it's early enough that office workers aren't yet skipping out for an early lunch. This means she's not having to worry about the heavy camera slung over her shoulder bumping into people. Nor is she worried she'll annoy anyone when she stops to take in a particular scene, occasionally raising said camera to take a shot.

I enjoy people-watching on a good day, but watching El adds a whole new element to it. Every time she stops to consider a shot, she'll pop her glasses up onto her head, treating them as one would sunglasses. She'll then stare hard at the scene, consider something only she can see, and then decide whether to take a photo. No matter what, as soon as she finishes, down come the glasses again before she moves along. A bit more watching and I can see that even before she starts this routine, her eyes keep darting above the tops of her glasses, taking in quick glimpses of the resonance around her. As a practitioner, it's fascinating.

If it weren't for the lack of sleep and my worry over what we would be doing for the next few hours, I wouldn't have minded her casual approach. We weren't in any rush and in fact, she was a little early. As it was, I was only mildly annoyed. It wasn't her fault I had spent so many hours reworking the plan to take her into account. It was all productive, I'll admit, but it still took time figuring out the angles and making calls to find out whether my half-baked ideas could work. Not 'would', 'could'. I was still waiting for Dali to let me know if my recoding idea could work and until that came in, I didn't even want to take it to Amey to see what he thought. 

Taking another sip of the delicious brew, I closed my puffy eyes and savoured the mix of bitter and sweet. I was glad Old Shadi had chosen to open his café here and not on the other side of the Atlantic as he had initially planned. He and his family were magicians when it came to food and drink, always seeming to know how to prepare it for a person's particular tastes. Whenever I could come up with an excuse to stop by, I would, and today was no exception. It didn't hurt that his place provided the perfect entrance to where we needed to go after.

Finally, El's wandering gaze spotted me at the outside table. I assumed I looked a sight: hair pulled into a bun, chopsticks holding it up and not an ounce of makeup to cover the signs of a late night. I doubt she expected me to be dressed in a ratty old jumper and jeans either. Anyone looking at me would likely think I was a college student or something, recovering from a hard night out. She, on the other hand, had made an effort, at least what I expected an artist to consider to be an effort: slacks, linen collared shirt, boots. Okay, the boots sort of broke the mould, but it was definitely an improvement over my sandals. Not that it mattered where we were going.

The only acknowledgement of my unconventional look was a raised eyebrow and the quirk of her lips as she draped a satchel bag over the corner of the chair opposite. The camera she placed on one side of the table. Seating herself, she seemed about to ask something before remembering the law of the jungle. Do not interrupt someone in need of coffee or, be prepared to lose life and limb. I can work with blatantly bright people.