Valentine’s Day is coming up soon, but not all is roses and chocolate. If you’ve ever wondered how you got in relationships that were just wrong from the beginning, or seen your friends do so, it’s entirely possible that these two characters were in the middle of it somehow.
This story is part of the Love Bites Blog Hop, celebrating Valentines Day in an interesting way. For some alternative perspectives on the holiday, it’s definitely worth checking out the rest of the stories.
From across the courtyard, an arrow streaks across the crowd unnoticed. Bone white to the shooter, but invisible to the lunchtime crowd, the peculiar weapon is a stark contrast to the concrete and chrome of downtown. Striking home in the back of a young girl, she gasps and stands in surprise. Instead of wounded pain, the face beneath blonde bangs shows the unmistakable expression of wonder and pleasure as the arrow dissolves, rather than leaving a spine shattering wound. Tracing the flight back would see a figure hooded in black, bony fingers gripped around the handle of a simple bow decorated with red ribbons. Standing against the corner of a building, the bow remains aimed into the crowd. Like the arrow, the grim archer remains invisible to the people milling about. Grinning skeletal teeth sight down the bow, as the string continues a deep vibration from the shot.
“Joanie?” her friend notices the sudden change, looking with concern.
Unheeding, the first woman stands in wonder, and walks to the street. There, waiting for a light to change, astride a vibrating machine of mechanical machismo, a rough man sees her coming to him and looks her up and down. Unkempt and unhelmeted, he smiles at her hungrily and nods. The woman takes in every detail of his appearance, from the sturdy boots all the way to the tattoos on the neck peeking out from under his leather vest. She continues to stare deep into his blue eyes until he pats the seat behind him.
She laughs throatily, tossing the remainder of her sandwich to the ground. With a shift of her skirt, her leg passes over top of the motorcycle and her arms settle around his muscled stomach intimately just as the light changes to green. To the dismay of her friend, the pair ride off out of sight.
Back at the corner, the figure steps back around the building, where a winged young child is waiting. The innocence and youth of his costume are starkly contrasted by anger as he reaches out and takes the bow from the taller visage. From under the hood, a voice seeps out with an unfeeling gravity, sounding older than time. “You really do have the best job, Mikey.”
“That’s definitely not a shot I’d have made, Frank. You’ve got to quit it.”
“They were just sitting there, and you were off snooping on people again. You tattle on me, and I’ll tell about your…slight fascination with footwear.” The hooded figure grinned, but as the expression is eternal, it wasn’t much of a change.
“Fine. Anyway, we’re having a poker tournament this weekend. Want in?” The shorter one asks, as they set off together around the buildings of downtown, doing their respective rounds.
“Not if that Klaus is coming again. It’s definitely cheating to know when someone’s bluff is ‘naughty or nice’.”