Nevermore ♚𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙧♚

|Chapter 2|

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"Is business slow?"

The man's head shoots up after he hears the sound of my voice, that I had exaggerated much higher than it should be. His eyes are wide, staring up at me as he wipes cheeks with his hands trying to find a sense of his tired reply.

He looks surprised as if he just saw a ghost.

My heart thumps faster in fear that he can recognize me through the makeup and the fake voice. My life flashes in my eyes, losing the last of the freedom I have. Then I'd lose John, then I won't be able to joke with Freddie about his ability.

My hands tremble in the shawl, but instead of calling me out he quickly sniffles and blinks his bright hazel eyes a few times at me, "Uhm-"

I'm over-reacting now. This man looks completely out of it too, almost tipsy if that's the case. Bags are protruded underneath his eyes and his long face becomes a bit shorter once he finally smiles in a friendly manner. Very handsome, despite how sleepy he is. "Yes, it's very slow today, er-" he eyes me up and down, "Sir?"

Shockingly he didn't assume I was a woman, but that's one step closer to him finding out who I really am and John and Freddie just might lecture me when I tell him about it later. If there is a later.

I suck in a breath before nodding confidently. I glance around his stand, seeing nothing at first but once I stare above his head, patterned cloths are hanging on a rack. From left to right, they are each displaying something different. From beautiful red roses to something as plain as a salmon-colored pink on the left end. They're all very pretty, I wonder how they would look if John made them into a hat, or maybe a soft pillow.

"Did you make those?" I ask, gesturing towards the fabrics. He doesn't bother turning for even a moment, but instead chuckles deeply and rests his arms back on top of the wood. "Precisely with my own two hands," he pauses, "How could you tell?"

A playful tone sounds in his voice allowing me to ease into the comfort. He doesn't exactly sound like he's out to find out who I truly am, or to even monitor my every move. I may as well look just as sketchy as he does walking around like this.

"I naturally assumed you produce your product, I've never seen you around before." I point up toward a rich blue colored fabric that the man's eyes land on right away. He stands up, being rather taller than I thought. I should have guessed from maybe his fingers being so lanky.

He grabs the medium-sized draped fabric in his hands and pulls it down carefully securely into his arms and whirls back to me. "I travel a lot, I only visit once in a while."

I wish I could travel, but I don't have a death wish.

He waits a moment, rumbling the cloth with his thumbs may be trying to see if it's at it's the best quality. Even if it wasn't, I'd probably buy it anyway.

At last, he holds it out for me, and I take it from him and so gently that it feels as if I'm taking it away from nothingness.
"You should show up more." I begin examining the way the fabric is stitched together so perfectly, each line of string in a perfect row. This would fit any etiquette in my palace, considering how detailed it is.

This man never missed a beat with any line on simple plain cotton, almost effortless triumph was put through with it. How had business been slow for him?

I clear my throat and stare back up at him to continue, "Kyloth is good for its merchant stands, you know."

He simply shrugs and plops back down onto the little stool behind the stand. "It isn't very fun staying in one place, obligated and known to do one thing somewhere specific. Why not just roam?"