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It wasn’t the smile he remembered from when he’d given her the pencils. There didn’t seem to be true joy in it. Her lips twitched a little while she was doing it, as if she wasn’t certain it sat quite right. Then it was gone as if it had never been, and she was turning away.
Luka felt someone else’s eyes on him and forced his feet to move. He found a position where he could see inside but not be seen. While he watched her work, he caught his own reflection in the storefront of a different shop, some type of vapor store that sold other paraphernalia as well. It was closed until noon.
Luka studied the shadowy view of his face in the dark glass, forcing his lips to tilt up. It looked almost disturbing, nothing like Alina’s drawings. He let his mouth fall straight. Luka didn’t remember smiling even as a child. His family had all told him he was much too serious and quiet.
Maybe you had to be able to feel joy in order to portray it. Joy was too much to hope for.
When Alina exited the diner in the early afternoon, he let the space between them grow. She stopped in at the convenience store, and curiosity pierced him. He didn’t trust it and stayed where he was. When she exited after a time, she carried two plastic bags with her.
That night, the smells of whatever she cooked for herself were enticing. He watched her through the dining room window as she ate a small portion of pasta. She put more of it away, cleaning up with efficient movements. Her lips no longer lifted.
He tracked the path of lights she switched off and then on. She spent most of her time in the bedroom. The tension that thrummed through her body seemed to leave whenever she entered that room. As if she was safe.
Safety was the worst kind of lie.
Alina took her time sharpening one of the pencil nubs. Then she began to draw.
It was Luka’s face again. His scalp tingled as he watched her hand shift. It was as if he could feel her fingers tracing along his skin, over each part of him that she drew. Only it had never felt quite so pleasant when anyone had actually touched him. No, he was much more used to pain, pain worse than the needle his tattoo artist used.
The new image looked nothing like him, though at least this one wasn’t smiling. No, he seemed somehow bigger than he was as he stood protectively over a hunched form that had to be herself.
Luka listened to the rapid thump of his heart as he stared at the drawing. The light switching off broke the spell.
He left the window, worried his silhouette would give him away. His heart didn’t slow as he huddled in the small alleyway, waiting for time to pass.
When he allowed himself to enter the house, all was quiet. No squeak of hinges gave him away as he slipped through the bedroom door, crouching near the wall on the side of the bed that her face was turned toward.
Her feet stuck out from under the covers, and he noted she still wore her shoes. His gloves felt too tight. So she didn’t feel as safe there as she appeared to.
He couldn’t look away from her face. He wondered what that meant. No matter how long he watched her that night, he never figured it out.
Chapter 10
Alina had begun to relax as more of the week passed. No one had come to kick her out of the house she was staying in, and after four days spent cooking in the small diner, she’d become almost used to Meg’s gruffness.
At first, she’d thought Meg was angry at her. The woman who had taken care of her would often speak with that kind of sniping tone. And then she would beat her. Meg never raised a hand, though, and continued to give her too much food at the end of every shift.
Alina forced herself to eat every bite, not wanting to offend the woman.
There had been one time when Meg had yelled from right next to her, and Alina had jerked, sending one of the hot pans to the ground. Meg’s voice had gotten even louder then, but Alina finally noticed the difference. Meg liked to shout when she was concerned, not annoyed.
Frank came to the diner every morning. He was much gentler than his appearance let on, and he continued to tip her too much. He also called her ‘girly’ because Alina hadn’t given any of them her name.
She knew she wouldn’t be able to go there much longer. She was taking advantage of the situation, even if Meg refused to say so. There were never a lot of customers inside.
Meg’s hand closed around her arm when Alina attempted to slip away after her shift. She wasn’t looking at Alina. No, she was scowling at the front window.
“You know that man with a shaved head and tattoos?” Meg asked.
Alina’s gaze flew to the window, but no one was there. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed. There was no reason she should ever see Luka again. It had been days.
Only maybe it hadn’t.
Meg’s brown eyes had that look in them, the one that said she saw too much. “He the one who put those marks on you?”
Alina shook her head almost too hard. She bit her lip before denying it in a soft voice. “No. Not him.”
Meg waited another beat, then released her arm. “Okay then. Just wanted to make sure you knew he was hanging about.” She turned away, heading back toward the stove. A few people had already arrived for lunch.
