The intimacy of Liadov's movement toward the young Black Ops man, as if to murmur something in his ear, was a vivid reminder of what had been transpiring. Well, begun to transpire, before Polya and the murderer had charged in, like figures at opposite ends of an ill-lit hall of cracked, crazed mirrors.
That inadvertant stolen glimpse, two figures pressed together in shameless urgency, blazing in a private universe of riotous life.
Beside that, the murderer was a small, petty thing indeed.
They looked good together, Polya thought. The dark soldier and the frost-tipped policeman. He remembered them sitting across from one another, less than an hour ago, smiling, one cool and the other bright, both tinged by the corona of a shared joke.
Maybe this Aryol could blunt the razor pain that had shown its edge that night.
For a moment it looked as though Polya had been forgotten, but Nika caught his eye before he could slip away.
Ah, well. It wasn't a long walk, though it would no doubt be an awkward one. Anyway, Polya suspected, inwardly smiling, the two of them would soon have better things occupying their attention.
"Yeah," he acknowleged, smiling ruefully as he fell in beside the pair at a respectful distance, "but I'm not the one getting ambushed."
Polya looked back over his shoulder to where the stricken murderer stood.
"You're incredible, Nikasha," he said, shaking his head in awe.
Sheepish, Polya glanced away at the cold stars.
"Just-- do me a favor, hey? Try not to get hauled into alleyways by shadowy figures, no matter how dark and handsome they turn out to be? There's better places to meet, and I'm too young for a heart attack."
He watched his boots crunch across the ground and added, in an undertone, "I'd rather have to listen to you scream than find you under a sheet."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-10-11 08:03 am (UTC)That inadvertant stolen glimpse, two figures pressed together in shameless urgency, blazing in a private universe of riotous life.
Beside that, the murderer was a small, petty thing indeed.
They looked good together, Polya thought. The dark soldier and the frost-tipped policeman. He remembered them sitting across from one another, less than an hour ago, smiling, one cool and the other bright, both tinged by the corona of a shared joke.
Maybe this Aryol could blunt the razor pain that had shown its edge that night.
For a moment it looked as though Polya had been forgotten, but Nika caught his eye before he could slip away.
Ah, well. It wasn't a long walk, though it would no doubt be an awkward one. Anyway, Polya suspected, inwardly smiling, the two of them would soon have better things occupying their attention.
"Yeah," he acknowleged, smiling ruefully as he fell in beside the pair at a respectful distance, "but I'm not the one getting ambushed."
Polya looked back over his shoulder to where the stricken murderer stood.
"You're incredible, Nikasha," he said, shaking his head in awe.
Sheepish, Polya glanced away at the cold stars.
"Just-- do me a favor, hey? Try not to get hauled into alleyways by shadowy figures, no matter how dark and handsome they turn out to be? There's better places to meet, and I'm too young for a heart attack."
He watched his boots crunch across the ground and added, in an undertone, "I'd rather have to listen to you scream than find you under a sheet."