Regret (nothingtoregret) wrote in runaway_tales,

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Vanilla #28; Guava #28

Author: Regret
Rating: PG13
Challenge: Vanilla #28 - Mail/Letter/Package; Guava #28 - Kiss And Make It Better
Word Count: 926
Summary: Simon hunts down Ioann to pass on the message. Or a message, anyway.
Notes: I'm getting slightly worried that every time I settle down to write a Guava prompt, it becomes sarcastic. I blame Simon...  *sigh*  Anyway, he's a courier, I don't see what he's complaining about when he's asked to deliver a... package.  *g*

Sunday is traditionally a day of rest, not that I’ve ever noticed much resting going on. People seem just as preoccupied on a Sunday as they do on a Saturday. It’s certainly not a day of rest for me: at the crack of dawn I was scrambling into my leathers, cramming my crash helmet onto my head and fleeing the house in search of a certain pink-haired bastard I have a message to deliver to.

I don’t live in the most enormous city in the world but it’s big enough that it’s hard to find someone when they don’t want to be found, even when they’re cross-eyed and have pink hair. I’ve been riding around for hours: my arse is starting to go numb and I’m starting to think that at this rate, I’ll be so tired that even when I see him I won’t recognise him - when I think I catch sight of a flash of pink heading into an alleyway. I stop the bike so abruptly I nearly keel over to one side. “Hey, you!”

At a guess, I’d say he’s ignoring me. He doesn’t even look over his shoulder, but vanishes into the shadows as I slide awkwardly off my bike. It falls over, useless pile of junk, but this time I’m not going to waste my time trying to prop it up. It can damn well stay there.

I set off at a sprint after him and it’s not long before I catch him up. It’s not hard, he’s got shorter legs than me and he’s not running - although if he knew what was good for him… I’m behind him in a few long strides and, you know, I don’t think he can hear me coming because he’s not slowing or looking around.


Because it means there’s no resistance when I grab his shoulder and pull him around with one hand, and punch him in the face with the other.

It’s actually pretty funny, the way he stumbles and falls over backwards with this dumb, shocked expression, but I don’t really feel like laughing. Seeing his face again just makes me feel like belting him again. He yanks a set of earphones from his ears and stares up at me with satisfyingly frightened eyes. “What the-?! Who are you?!” I’m still wearing my face-covering crash helmet and it’s so, so tempting to just leave it closed and kick him in the…

Rise above it, Simon.

I slide up the visor and his jaw drops; it’s difficult to resist the urge to tell him to shut his mouth before he catches a fly. He stares at me for a few seconds, and it’s a little disconcerting because I can’t entirely tell if he’s staring at me or just staring at my nose. “Why did you do that?” He says eventually, sounding just a bit nervous - probably the nicest thing I’ve heard all week if I’m honest.

“Why do-” I start, but the words are muffled by the helmet. I think he’s expecting me to hit him again when I jerk it off my head: he flinches back and whilst normally I’d feel guilty about that, right now I’m just too angry to care. Once it’s easier to speak, I try again: “why do you think?!”

“I… don’t know? That’s why I’m asking?”

Oh what I’d give to just be able to lift my foot and kick him in the face… “Your little friend asked me to pass on a message!” I spit out, even though my teeth are so tightly gritted it hurts.

“My little-”

“-the one with the bird wing,” I interrupt; I’ll be damned if I’m letting him wriggle out of this, the bastard.

Ioann frowns up at me. “I told you not to tell him you’d seen me.”

I didn’t,” I growl, shoving both hands in my pockets because if I don’t I’ll just have to hit him again. “He just turned up and- and-” I can’t spit the words out - and worse, I can feel my cheeks heating up. Oh God, this is so embarrassing. I’m gonna fucking kill him for this.

The worst of it is, Ioann is just staring blankly at me like I’m talking utter gibberish. “And what?”

“And- and-” I sound like a stuck record. “And he asked me to give you a- a message…”
Ioann stares at me and raises an eyebrow and for a second all I see is red. God only knows how, but I stop my fist just before it hits his face. He stares at it instead, for once actually having a reason to be cross-eyed. “He… Asked you to hit me?”

“No!” I shout, with more force than I actually intended. “He fucking kissed me, you bastard!”

Actually, I probably shouldn’t have shouted that. Now my cheeks feel even hotter.

After all that, I’d at least have liked him to look surprised, or even sympathetic, but all I get instead is, “oh, that sounds more like it.” Then he looks up at me and raises his eyebrow again. “So that’s the message he asked you to pass along? He wanted you to kiss me?”

It’s all I can do not to bring back my hand, which I should add is still about two inches from his nose, and swing it even harder than before. He’s only asking a question, after all. I swallow and nod slowly.

“So, are you going to kiss me?”

Now, surely you can’t blame me for hitting him this time?
Tags: [author] regret, [challenge] guava, [challenge] vanilla

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