She was fiery and angry and part of him, albeit a very small part, almost felt bad for having offended her. It washed away though. After all, she was the one who had called him over—not the other way around. He could have easily ignored her and just continued onward; the fact that he had even bothered to answer her should have been enough for her. If she was expecting him to be jovial company or grateful to have his night interrupted then he would have nothing for her. He couldn’t give her something that he wasn’t.
“Apology accepted,” he grunted, rolling his spotted shoulders. He wasn’t thick—he knew that she wasn’t offering him a sincere apology, but to him, it was necessary all the same. She had interrupted him, after all. The least that she could do was at least apologize for making him traipse all the way over to her.
Still, he had been raised well (even if he did his best to make it seem otherwise) and so he dipped his head in a mild greeting, holding her gaze. “My name is Zai,” he finally offered, even though it felt like pulling teeth from him, the little bit of information yanked from between his molars and shared. It wasn’t that it was particularly revealing to share a name, but every bit of information felt personal, and he was an intensely private individual. All he had wanted was a moment to himself, and that had been taken.
“Why do you come here then?” he asked, regretting it instantly. He hadn’t wanted to encourage further conversation, but he couldn’t keep himself from wondering why she would bother coming to a place that she hated. Why expose yourself to something that would just make you miserable? His light grey eyes sharpened on her in thought, hating the curiosity that laced through him and kept him rooted to the spot.
if there is a line I'll cross it, no lesson will I learn
even if I'm standing on it, no bridge that I won't burn