The trickster sighed, the feigned Estuary English accent becoming more pronounced as he spoke, subtle enough for the change not to be noticed, but clear enough that once mentioned it became obvious. “My apologies, miss. I’m English… ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’ are just… I don’t know, really, terms of friendly endearment, I guess… I didn’t mean anything by it - especially not what I think you’re implying! I’d never, honestly… I uh, I just…” His cheeks prickled a rosy shade of embarrassment as his blood heated and rushed to the surface; Loptr rubbed the back of his neck nervously, trying to think of how to amend his foolishness.
“I was looking for something; my mother had her ring stolen, you see?” He started, reaching his hands out in a pleading attempt to get her to believe his panicked, nervous tones, only to point to an open dumpster. “A-and I thought I saw them throw something back here, into one of those rubbish piles… The smell is probably me - I was looking for it when you walked past.”
At that, Loptr produced a ring, which he cleaned on his shirt carefully before showing it to the woman before him with a proud grin. Silver glinted in the dim light, and a rainbow of colour shone from the embedded diamond as the centre-piece. “S-see? I told her I’d find it…!”
Loptr slipped precious the silver band back into his inside pocket, patting it carefully to make sure it’d settled at the bottom of the pouch. The trickster looked back up, celeste irises flickered over her figure carefully, taking in her stance as he tried to calm it from its defensiveness.
“I just… I just didn’t really want to walk back alone, thought that we could keep each other company.” The trickster smiled sweetly, dimples forming either side of his lips, setting deep into his cheeks as he shuffled forward a little and held out a hand for her to shake. “I hope I didn’t scare your dog… He looks lovely… I’m Charlie, by the way, Charlie Robson. I’m really, awfully sorry.”
Thinking that the conversation was over, she was moving on and away from the threat of danger and even simmered the power in her grasp. His voice had caught her attention once more; it was a drug lulling her back to him. The accent filled the air between them and it tugged at her curiosity. It is always the accents. She had two choices, remain here and humor the man a little longer or head to where a warm fire awaited her with the promise of dinner. Taking a moment to herself, Sarah hung her head in defeat. I suppose dinner could wait a little longer.
Noting the tone of his voice, and the hint of uneasiness in it, Sarah languidly spun on her right heel to face him again. Slender fingers found themselves running through her fiery crown of curls to pull them from her vision. Sea-green eyes were fixated on his features, but not once lingered too long in his gaze. The eyes opened up portals to the soul, and frankly, Sarah was not ready to share a soul-gaze with this stranger.
Is he embarrassed? Poor guy, he really is trying. Keeping her thoughts to herself, Sarah stepped forward and started to shake her head from the apologies and explanation. Now she felt guilty for assuming the worst in him, for not all men sought to stalk the streets after a lady. Let’s say he was telling the truth, then she treated him rashly and left a bad impression of herself. But, what if this was a ruse, for Sarah saw neither woman with him nor any signs of burglars in the area.
The ring itself glistened in what little light was provided from above; there were facets to a diamond – much like there were many features to a man. There it was again, paranoia had struck while narrowed depths stared too long at the band. When it was tucked away, she broke from her thoughts and looked up at his visage. “It is a beautiful piece, I am sure she would appreciate the fact that her son went to such lengths to retrieve it. Even rummaging near garbage in order to do so, this must be quite valuable to her.”
Letting an audible exhale pass through rosy tiers, Sarah now approached the man as he introduced himself and extended a hand to meet her own. The wind blew back the coils of red from her freckled face, revealing a sympathetic expression painted on pallid skin. “Mister Robson, don’t worry about it,” whispered quietly, “You do not have to keep apologizing, but you must understand as well. Not many men approach me during the cover of the night with such benevolent intentions, some seek things of monetary value .. and some desire invaluable things.”
The summoner finally took his offered hand, but the moment her fingers wrapped around it, Sarah felt something that caused her skin to prickle. Could he feel her as well, the sudden rush? Masking her surprise, her hand withdrew from his own and rested at her chest, where her heart threaten to leap out from its confines!
“Sarah,” forced words slipped out as she recovered from the touch, “Sarah Fanelia, I mean. Don’t worry about my companion, Mister Robson I am sure he will find us if I do not get home at an appropriate time.” The smile she formed did not light up her face; it was small and full of uncertainty. “Now tell me, in which direction are you going, I am guessing she is expecting you to return soon.” Remain calm, Sarah.