Look at Me: Fourth Encounter and a Late Night Talk

Humming, I practice one of my newer routines for an upcoming party. I leap around the room, making sure I don’t hesitate for even a moment, when the door opens. It’s Lon’qu, coming to get some equipment. I start slowing down my movements, my humming getting quieter. What if he looks?


To my surprise, he doesn’t even glance my way or greet me. I’m the one to say, “Hey Lon’qu.”


“Oh? Hello. Are you practicing?” He searches in a corner for something.


“Yeah...a new dance.” For some reason, I’m poised to show him my favorite part of the dance.


“Interesting…” Is it really? “Don’t let me stop you; I’m already leaving.” He gets up, holding a first-aid kit.


He strides to the door when I blurt, “Do you want to see?”


He pauses, not even facing me, replying, “No, that’s fine, thank you. I know how you are with staring.” Lon’qu closes the door behind him. I resume my dancing, skipping over the part I was about to show him, thinking, But I want you to stare.
~**~
A soft knock on the door awakens me from my post-dance nap. “Who is it…?” I wonder out loud.


“...Lon’qu. Are you...indecent?”


“Wait…!” I call out, pulling the covers over me. I need to stop falling asleep like this. “Come in.” Slowly, the door opens, revealing Lon’qu in wrinkled pajamas. I furrow my brow. “What time is it…?” I yawn.


“Midnight,” he answers promptly.


“Midnight?!” I shout.


“Shh!!”


“Sorry!” I whisper. “Midnight?! Why are you up?”


“I wanted to talk about...your dancing.”


I perk up. “You want to see?”


“No, not that.” Then what the hell? “Who taught you how to dance?”


“Oh. I’m self-taught.”


“I see...do you only dance for entertainment?”


I shrug. “I mean, I know ballroom dancing, but no one wants me to do that.” I watch Lon’qu walk around the room quietly, steering clear of the bed. He stops by the window, looking out at the waxing moon.


"Were you self-taught in that, as well?" he asks distractedly.


I shake my head. "No; when Basilio and Flavia found out I didn't know, they immediately recruited a teacher for me and practiced with me in their free time." I laugh a little at the memory: how offended they were, even though they barely have a use for it; how I kept stepping on Basilio's toes and tripping on Flavia’s cape.


"I see," Lon'qu murmurs. "That was all, thank you." With that, he turns on his heel and strides out of my room, tripping over the rich carpet at the last minute. I gasp and he flails to hold onto something. He grabs onto the doorframe, but his head bangs against it.


"Oh gods Lon'qu! Are you okay?" I jump off my bed and rush to him. Lon'qu, pressing a hand to his forehead, puts a hand to stop me from getting closer.


"Stay away," he orders, his voice laced with pain.


"No! You need help!"


"No please...! I can't... You're..."


"Who cares right now?!" Ignoring his pleas, I pry his hand from his forehead, seeing a small cut. "Lon'qu, you're bleeding!"


"Keep your voice down!" he says through gritted teeth. Pulling him back inside my room, I fish out a first-aid kit from my closet. You never know. I order him to sit on my bed. "B-but," he stutters. A glare from me shuts him up and he obeys.


Approaching him with the kit, Lon'qu leans away from me. "Lon'qu," I scold.


"I can do this myself," he grumbles. Annoyed, I rub ointment on the cut, not bothering to warn him. To my pleasure, he winces in pain at the sting. "It's not that serious..." Without comment, I put a bandage on the forehead. "Is it over?" he inquires.


Coolly, I respond, "Well, if you'll let me, I'll check for other wounds." I give him a pointed look.


"I-if you insist," he allows, his face red in the dim moonlight. I skim my hands over his hands and arms, instantly feeling him tense up.


"Why are you like this?" I ask out loud to myself.


Unexpectedly, Lon'qu answers, "I don't like women."


Frowning, I look at him. "You're...afraid?"


He looks at me in surprise. "Yes. How...?"


"I thought you were just really shy around Flavia and me, but the more you're here..." His gaze falls to the arm I'm touching. I pull away. "I'm sorry then. At least there aren't any other cuts or bruises."


The brown-haired man lets out a short laugh. "Yeah."


I back away from him, gesturing towards the door. "You can go."


With a curt nod, he rises and walks out. Before he closes the door, though, he calls out softly, "Olivia?"


A rush of blood floods to my face, elated that he finally said my name in the two weeks he's been here. "Yes?" I say, a little too happily.


"Thank you. And please don't make a big deal of what I told you about my... issue."


I give him a half-smile. "I wouldn't do that to you. Good night, Lon'qu."


Giving me a rare smile, he says, "Good night, Olivia."