SM_Monthly Prompt #21: PLEDGE
She could have killed him as she watched his fingers dance across the keys, painting some disgustingly beautiful image with the chords and flats and sharps. Instead, she nearly drained her glass of Cabernet and attempted to pay attention to the droplets on the side of the bottle from which the vintage spouted. They really didn't hold any particular appeal, especially in comparison to the blonde-haired man just a few feet away from her, so she begrudgingly turned back to face him.
And of course, he seemed to know just how to pick away at her every last defense.
"It's one of my favorite movies, you know," he whispered from the piano, that voice seemingly melting into the notes as they lazed around her head... into her ears... massaging her mind with the flutter of some ravenous flame...
"A classic," she agreed tersely, although not for any other reason than simple sensibility. She didn't think she could possible form actual functioning sentences without breaking the levees which kept her safe.
"'It's still the same old story, a fight for love and glory, a case of do or die-' I mean, Rei-san, with lyrics like that... Bogart was probably laughing himself to sleep as he cuddled his Oscar."
"He didn't even sing the song," she snapped, fiddling with her fingers as he shrugged from behind the piano. "And he didn't even win! Now would you stop playing it?"
"You aren't the only patron here," he countered languidly. "This could be some young couple's wedding night, and this their favorite song from their favorite movie and just the image of Isla flying away from Rick with those words, those breathtakingly tragic words, 'here's lookin' at you k-'"
"Shut. Up." She had jumped over her seat and landed rather less gracefully than she had hoped to right above him, practically kneeling in the space between his legs on the piano bench. Her right hand had grasped his collar, and the left had scraped his scalp in an attempt to drag his head back to face her properly. "I don't want to hear anything about that movie again," she hissed as some of her long hair fell into his mouth.
"Gomen. I didn't realize Casablanca turned you on like this," he murmured after spitting out the mouthful of incense-flavored hair he had almost swallowed.
Violet eyes narrowed at two particularly smug blue eyes and Rei released him from her hold, her mouth completely agape.
"How dare you-"
"I thought we said no questions tonight," he interrupted as he resumed playing, this time a song she had only heard in passing. "No more Casablanca, I promise."
"Oshiro-san, when I find out who you are, there'll be no more of this ridiculous song and dance garbage of which you seem to be so fond."
She stood and stomped out of the small bar, her raven locks flickering behind her with the gasping heartbeat of a flame.
Oshiro Katashi ran a hand through his blonde mop and tried not to grin. She'd warm up to him. It would probably take a couple centuries.... But she'd eventually feel that fire. The fire that surged through his veins with such sureness that it almost screamed out to him, promising him that she wouldn't be able to resist that heat when she too stumbled upon it.
It was this little pledge to himself that he fully intended to see come to fruition.
