TERMINAL by Archer Thea

Author:Archer, Thea [Archer, Thea]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-08-17T16:00:00+00:00

13. OVERSHOOT

"You know, my worst fear was dying on my way to the supermarket or something, with the ugliest clothes on and messy hair."

Another small talk about death? I thought. I had to admit I wasn't sick of it yet.

We were standing behind the reception desk, gathering into the piles the dossiers of recent arrivals. Actually, at first, we'd been alone with Ian, but somehow he always managed to crowd a bunch of people around himself, even while being silent and calm.

Amused silence dragged on, I spoke first. "What's the difference?"

Judith looked at me with concerned, are-you-insane expression.

"Imagine if I became a ghost, I would wander for centuries dressed in sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt."

Ian laughed; his carefree, infectious laugher made everyone chuckle too. My gaze flickered to his deeply unbuttoned shirt and traced across his exposed collarbones; the topmost fastened button was only one tiny movement away from falling out of the buttonhole.

"But in the end, I died in a stunning scarlet dress, which..."

"Combined perfectly with the blood leaking from your head," Ian finished her sentence.

Judith shrugged.

"Yeah... It didn't make any sense since right now I'm wearing that dull office disaster."

"Since I worked in a bank, I feel like I was born in these clothes, I lived in it and died in it. And even after that, I'm still wearing this shirt." I grumbled. "I'm cursed."

Ian giggled.

"Speaking of cursing, in my life, I have worn that kind of clothes only three times, and then I swore I'd never wear it again."

"What happened?" Judith asked curiously.

Ian shifted his weight from foot to foot; the topmost button now was unbuttoned, exposing his stomach.

I was beginning to get annoyed with myself.

"The first time I wore a white shirt and black trousers I happen to be on the date in a restaurant, so when I went to the bathroom people kept asking me for the bill or menu. The second time was at the mall — that woman asked me to bring an XS size of her crap to her fitting room. Well, the third time: the Vienna hotel, me and an old man who was complaining about the towels in his room."

"What the hell?" asked Moritz.

"That's what happens when you're an Asian," Ian replied, smiling.

"Oh..." Judith murmured.

"Oh." Moritz echoed.

"Judith," Matthias caught up with the conversation a bit belatedly. "So, you had some severe cranial trauma?"

I peered sideways at Ian. I couldn't pretend I didn't notice the looks of women, locked on his chest. That sharp pang of jealousy made me frustrated, almost angry. I felt selfish, stupid, irrational. I wanted to monopolize him.

Ian caught my glance; I took advantage of that to gesture to his shirt. He looked down at his shirt, and then up at me again, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips; he straightened up and glared defiantly at me.

"Not really," Judith answered. "I got shot in the head. It's sort of ironic since I was a PUBG streamer."

"You were a streamer?" asked Matthias, he seemed awed, almost reverent.

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