“You’re…” David perks up. “Not a woman?”
Alexander clicks his tongue. Of course, he knew this was coming—this happens every goddamn time another learns about what name Alexander goes by, and it is also the reason why he had decided to isolate himself for so long. Because whenever he would answer, he would be met with laughs, strange mockeries, or disbelief.
As the young enchanter looks away from the mercenary, he doubts this David-person will react any differently, but he huffs, and tells the man anyway. “The last time I checked in with myself, I’ve never felt like one.”
More silence.
He takes a peek at David again. The mercenary’s brows are knitted together. He seems slightly confused. “Uh… so, like—”
“You can keep your nasty comments to yourself.” Alexander figures he may as well beat David to it; throw the mercenary out of his cave, and be done with this farce.
However, to the young enchanter’s surprise, mockery is in fact, not apparently, what David has in mind.
“What?” The mercenary perks up. He frowns again. “What nasty comments? I wasn’t—” He coughs into his fist. “Sorry, I haven’t drank anything in a while...” The man clears his throat again. “Um,” he shifts against his feet, hides his hands behind his back; Alexander thinks his behavior is strangely docile for that of a mercenary as muscular as himself, though, the young enchanter does not comment on the fact.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“I just wanted to ask… if I should treat you like a guy, then. Or…” David bites his lip. “W-well, I guess I’ve never met someone like you before. And I… don’t want to offend you. Or anything like that.” He waves his hands before his chest, then yelps. “Not that I’m trying to say you’re sensitive! I, uh—” The mercenary scratches the back of his head, like he had done before. His eyes meet with his boots.
David groans. “God, sorry, please don’t hurt me?” he says. And, to Alexander’s even bigger surprise, the man gets down on his knees, and begins to profusely apologize. “I just want to have a civil conversation here—I-I didn’t come to this forest to hurt anyone! I was with my friends before. We were playing a drinking g-game, and I kept on losing, so I ended up wanting to pee because I was pretty drunk—still kinda am—but, um… please?” David glances upward, to look at Alexander again; he forces a smile. “Let me live another day, good and generous Sir? I promise I’ll forget everything that I read. Really, I don’t even—”
Alexander goes red in the face once more. He covers his features with a single one of his hands. “Please,” he begs David, “stop mentioning the journals, will you? And…” He sighs. “Rise, David. There is no need for you to”— Alexander squints at the man, who may very well not be a mercenary after all—“behave in such ways.”
“Oh, thank the infant goddesses and gods themselves!” As David lets out an elongated huff of relief, he brings an open palm to his chest, then stands once more. “I totally thought you hated me.”
“Truly?” The young enchanter raises a brow.
“Yeah!” David’s voice cracks. “I mean, you were throwing so many death glares my way, that I could only think to myself: okay, this is it, this is where I die!”
“Ah.” Alexander finds himself smiling at the man. “Forgive me, David,” he tells him. “I was merely puzzled about your case.”
The young enchanter’s gaze wavers over to where two teacups are placed atop one of his wooden cupboards. “Say, my dear,” his eyes meet with David’s again. “May I, perchance, interest you in a cup of tea?”