"Oh?" Arthur raised his eyebrows. "I guess I should have guessed that, but I know next to nothing about dance." He watched Cyrin pick the shoes, waited as he tried them on, and listened as he explained a little about them.
As Cyrin moves to find the ribbons, Arthur made sure to keep a pleasant smile on his face, an almost dreamy look in his eyes, as he watched the dancer move. To anyone looking, it would have looked like he was a tad smitten with the graceful man.
In his head, the darkness swirled as he thought of all the ways to break someone with so much natural grace. Someone used to moving that smoothly would be… bothered to have their movement inhibited by some form of hobbling, some injury to joints or ligaments, and there were so many small options that would throw him off just enough to be problematic.
He'd need to make sure he could reel Cyrin in, though.
He realized Cyrin had turned to him, and consciously tore his eyes away, making sure to look sufficiently embarrassed, like a guy with a crush caught looking just a little too long.
"You, uh…. you ready to checkout?"
Cyrin watches Arthur for a moment and then nods, smiling, "Yeah." He pusea, "Wait. . . One more thing." He walks away grabbing something before coming back, "There now I'm ready."
He smiles at Arthur, "Don't look so sheepish, I'm used to people staring." He turns, walking toward the register.
Arthur watched him go back for something else with a hint of curiosity. He had to force himself to blush at the staring comment once Cyrin was back.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to…"
They went to the register, and he paid. The stuff wasn't terribly pricey, and certainly wasn't a problem for him.
Anyone immortal has way too long to gather resources to be bothered by any such thing as expenses. And a person who could live as an animal, no housing costs, catching their own food, travelling on foot, could just hoard all that gain.
They started to head out of the store, Arthur still looking a tad bit embarrassed.
"I guess I'm pretty obvious, huh…"
Cyrin grabs his stuff, "No, not really. I just. . . Know when people are watching me. Mum says it's a sixth sense for me." He laughs softly, "I guess that's why I decided to do something that needs watching."
He smiles, "And I guess I like it too. A attention on me." He shrugs, "Not in the 'everyone must look at me day's but to just. . . Admire my art form. Not me, but the dancing."
Cyrin himself was partial to just being watched, but people watching him when he danced was a whole other thing. Dancing was, well, it was his life, and when Other people watches him dance, it made him feel like he'd left a mark on the world. Even if they were just watching the way he moved because of the dancing.
Careful.
Arthur gave a small laugh. "Well, you're nice to watch. And I haven't even seen you dance yet." He needed to strike the balance between complimentary and creepy. It was a fine line with someone he didn't know well.
He stopped once they were out of the shop, not sure where Cyrin would want to go next, and glanced up at the dancer.
"You could hold my attention any day…" he said quietly, and then made sure to react with a slight bit of embarrassment, like he hadn't meant to let it slip.
"I mean-… I, uh… well. Yeah." He looked down, studying his shoes.
Slightly vain, then. Not too much, but disfigurement would be… significant, for him.
Cyrin laughs softly, “Hmm. . . Well, maybe you will eventually.” He sighs, looking at the time, cursing softly, “Well, I gotta run, I have to get to the studio for a class. Maybe I’ll see you later.” He turns to walk away and then pauses, thinking and then turn back, “What’s your number?” He asks.
Arthur looked up, disappointment flashing across his face for a moment. "It was good to meet you! Don't be late on my account." He gave a small smile. "Maybe you will." As Cyrin turned to walk away, Arthur sagged his shoulders just a bit.
Maybe… give it a second…
Cyrin turned back and asked for a number. Arthur immediately brightened up, and rattled it off. "Yeah, shoot me a text or call me or whatever!"
The outward smile was excited and sweet, but inwardly, it was all teeth and intense eyes.
…Bingo.
Cyrin smiles slightly, “Thanks.” He lists off his own number before moving back into the crowd of people, after throwing a smile at Arthur. He pulls out his phone, setting Authrs number into it and sending a quick confirmation text before pocketing it and heading to his car
Arthur beamed back at him as Cyrin melted into the crowd. The smile changed once Cyrin was out of sight. Less of a happy beaming smile, more of a pleased grimace.
Got a nibble.
Now he just needed to work on setting the hook.
His phone buzzed, and his smile widened unpleasantly. He checked the contact, making sure it was Cyrin, and responded quickly, like a guy way too excited about the text.
Arty here! You've got the right number :)
His people watching habits were slaked for the moment, now that he had long term prey. So he left the mall and headed home, planning, scheming.
(was gonna suggest maybe a time skip to the dance event?)
About a week later Cyrin was standing backstage, talking with his partner for the dance. He was helping her figure out her movements that she was struggling with. He wondered if Arthur really would be there. He shakes his head slightly, “Perfect. This will be amazing, we’ve been working on it for months.”
He takes a step away, watching her, and then nods, “Yes, you got it.” He looks over as the director walks over, telling them is was 5 minuets until showtime. Cyrin nods, “I’ll go finish getting ready.”
Arthur had done his work this week. He'd found any trace of Cyrin online that he could. He knew the man's address, he had social media accounts, he knew names of friends and family, he had checked for other hobbies and interests, and had just generally done his homework.
He was sitting over by the bar in the diner, working on his drink, just waiting for Cyrin to come onstage. He'd thought about texting, but he figured clinging wasn't the vibe he wanted in this situation.
He was relaxed, sitting with his back to the bar, facing the stage, and had done his due diligence to go for the hot-disheveled look. Hair intentionally mussed, button-up with the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons open, nice blue jeans over Timberlands, the whole thing.
He did decide to inject some nerves into the situation. The schedule said the next performers should be on in about 5 minutes. So he pulled his phone out and sent off a text.
Do well tonight! You got this!
Encouraging, nice… but also a reminder that he was here, and watching.
Cyrin sighs softly, looking at the time a watching the clock, closing his eyes for a moment. Get over the damn nerves. . . He takes a deep breath and he jumps slightly when his phone goes off. He picks it up, looking at the text and smiles.
Thanks for the vote of confidence
He sets his phone down on his bag, “We’re up.” He murmurs softly, smiling brightly. He bounces on the balls of his feet, anxious. He puts on a smile, waiting.
Arthur smiled a little at the response. Mission accomplished. The dancer knew he was here, and wouldn't be surprised. Surprising him would likely throw him off, and that would be bad. Arthur wanted Cyrin to be comfortable with him, and he couldn't do that by throwing him off.
The MC stepped up and introduced the next group, and their music started. Arthur positioned himself where he was sure he could be seen from the stage, and focused.
He wanted Cyrin to feel the full weight of his attention during this dance.
Cyrin waits a moment, before moving onto the stage, smiling slightly and closing his eyes before launching into the dance. His breaths easy, and his movements fluid. He knew Arthur was watching him, he knew lots of people were watching him. Not that it fazed him, he was used to being watched.
(out of curiosity, what kind of dance is he doing? mentioned it wasn't ballet, so maybe more like contemporary?)
Arthur made sure to pay rapt attention, even letting his jaw drop, just a little bit, like somebody completely taken with the grace and movement on display. He couldn't be sure Cyrin would see him, but he also wasn't sure he wouldn't.
Contemporary dance was… meh, as far as he was concerned. Really, the arts in general didn't rank very high on his list of priorities. He'd seen all of it in his years, and it no longer meant much to him.
But. He needed to show interest and make sure Cyrin felt appreciated. If you didn't build something, nobody would be hurt if you tore it down.
And the tearing was what he was really after.
Cyrin doesn’t look anywhere, mostly keeping his eyes closed most of the time, focusing on the moves instead. If he looked around, he knew he’d get distracted, and distraction was not a good thing.
Cyrin lets out a soft sigh imperceptibly, still keeping a slight smile on his face. He would have preferred Ballet, but money was money at this point. He keeps dancing, not enjoying himself as much as he normally would have.
At the end of the five minuets, he leaves the stage, his smile turning into a slight frown of irritation. He defiantly would have preferred a Pas de Deux, that would have been much better to preform. More his taste.
He picks up his bag, sitting down on the bench and taking a drink of water, silent.
There was a peppering of applause from the audience, though many of them just kept eating. Arthur made sure to applaud an appropriate amount.
He waited a couple of minutes for Cyrin to come out, and then sent him another text.
That was great! Join me for a drink? I'm at the bar, if you're down. I'm buying.
He wasn't sure Cyrin drank too much, it hadn't been clear in his 'research', but offering couldn't hurt.
Cyrin looks at his phone, smiling slightly and gets up, grabbing his bag and walks over to the bar. He smiles slightly, sitting down, “Hey. . .” He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the bar, quiet. He seemed down slightly. He looks at the bar, quiet.
"Hey, buddy…" Arthur had intended to be all congratulatory, but Cyrin didn't seem in the mindset for it. "What, uh… whatcha drinkin'?" he asked, before waving the bartender over.
He scooted his stool over a little closer to Cyrin as the bartender walked over. "Something bothering you?"
