His face would darken to a peculiar shade of red at her comment on the kiss. He would readily admit that he had indeed hit the ‘jackpot’ per say. Although he hadn’t mentioned to her that the kiss had been his first. Should he tell her? He might, later on though. Once he knew what this was all about.
Of course, he would be rather surprised at her response to his insistence to pay. Sapphirical eyes blinking in confusion for a moment before nodding in understanding “I suppose it would be rather pointless then wouldnt it?...” He would ask, reluctant to let it go since every psychological muscle was telling him to pay for the blasted drinks. “Tea, not coffee please. Two sugars..” He would say to the waiter who had come to request his drink of choice. He figured Alkaid was known well enough that they knew how she liked her coffee. Wouldn’t be surprising since she apparently owned the place. ‘That’s an interesting thought though. A place for swapping secrets and other information that so public. Does her taking me here prove that she trusts me to a degree?’ He would think before answering the original question that had been asked.
Her response however, surprised him.
His own face darkened at her initial response. Her face turning serious, and his becoming the same. He wasn’t angry, yet. He wasn’t a loud person when he was mad by any means. However it was a bit more obvious for this who knew what to look for. His knee would begin to rise and fall in rhythmic manner and his fingers would begin to drum on the table. Obvious signs of his own personal annoyance. He had long since practiced these motions, making them a normal part of his routine as he thought. Making people think you were angry, annoyed, or any other such ‘negative’ emotion when one was given information could oft times lead to even more. Either by the person trying to assuage them, or by putting you into the position of power in the situation to yank it out of them. Of course, these motions were practiced, he used them every time he was given news he’d rather not hear while he processed the information. So long as he had time to process said information of course.
Given the fact that they were sitting in the middle of a fucking cafe for the specified purpose of the girl in front of him giving him this information. He was willing to go with ‘Yes, you have fucking time.’ So, he was going to make use of it.
What Alkaid said made sense, the pictures only backing up her claims. For if what she said was true about the girls coma, and he awakening being just days before the murder. It would be absolutely impossible for her to have done the crime. Listening to Alkaid go on about how she would’ve helped Yanagi murder the elders caused a brief flash of anger to cross his features. She would’ve helped kill his father? Murder him in cold blood? He quickly reigned in his sudden fury however. ‘She was only wanting to help her friend. She might’ve said anything to the girl to calm the hell down.’ He thought to himself after taking a deep breath.
Continuing to hear the girl say she offered her life to the grief stricken girl instead caused a pang of dismay to shoot through him. If Yanagi had accepted, Alkaid and him would’ve never met. But his father wouldn’t be dead. He wasn’t sure what to feel about that, turning the thought over in his mind. ‘I suppose reflecting on the past doesn’t matter either way. The fact of the matter is he’s gone. Besides, Dad always told me to look toward the future. Not the past.’ He thought as he dropped the thought process, albeit, with some reluctance. Besides, it was possible that future had Alkaid in it. Provided she wasn’t flirting and hadn’t kissed him just to sell the deal and to get him here of course. He wasn’t sure at this point what was real and what wasn’t in that situation and to be frank he didn’t want to think about it at the moment. The pain that shot through his heart at the idea that she might have simply been acting was persistent. However Calin ignored it in favor of returning toward his thoughts.
The pale haired teen would reach forward and take the drink that the waiter had set before him. He’d take a long drink of the beverage and when the drink was over, and the cup sat down he wasn’t quite the same teen. A haunted look would appear in his eyes, his posture failing, and a cold knot of iron in his stomach as he realized he no longer had anyone to blame for his father’s murder. His memories of discovering his father’s corpse flashing before his eyes. Skin, purple, blood pooling out of his mouth like a sanguine drool that threatened to drown him. Eyes, wide with pain and fear of death. The empty look in Calin’s own eyes wouldn’t leave easily, and he didn’t know whether or not to thank or to be angry with Alkaid for the information. All he knew was that he had spent his time hating the wrong person. Wanting to kill the wrong person, and he didn’t even know who to hunt after now.
That however, wasn’t even the worst part.
He wanted to hate Yanagi for it. In a part of his mind, because some part of him. Some, irrational part of him, still wanted to blame the girl. Wanted to squeeze the life out of her. Part of him couldn’t seem to forgive her for a crime she hadn’t even committed. It was at that realization that he decided that he hated himself at that moment. Beyond any kind of hatred he could’ve had for Yanagi. For part of him wanted to murder an innocent girl, just because it might make him feel better. That in it of itself made him a monster in his eyes. He simply didn’t know what to do about it. He’d blink himself back into reality, not realizing that at some point he had gone from drumming his fingers on the table to leaning an elbow on the table and holding his head. His hand splaying his hair around, giving himself a rather disheveled appearance. He had been quiet too long, far too long. However, he simply didn’t know what to say. He put his hand down, taking a moment to smooth out his hair again, straightened his shoulders, and looked into the eyes of the girl sitting in front of him. His eyes hadn’t changed, they still displayed a brutal wound within them. In no way physical, but potentially every bit as crippling. One he didn’t know how to fix, if it even could be. “No, I suppose that does not sound like a mass murderer..” He would say simply. Unsure of what else to say, he would pause for a moment before speaking again. “Thank you for taking the time to tell me this.” He would say. Even if the news did cause a vicious blow to his psyche, the honesty was always appreciated, always wanted. “I-I don’t know what to say anymore..” He would say simply afterwards. Stumbling over the first word and hoping she hadn’t noticed. He was barely holding himself together at this point. He simply wished he knew what to do to keep doing it.