4
Cryptid Casanova
Seth
“Hey, how does my dick look in these pants?”
A human woman sporting aspeak with the managerhaircuttsksat me, but I pay her zero attention as I wait for Ollie’s response. The glamoured squonk leans over the counter of his cafe with a slightly bored look on his face before sucking his teeth and nodding once.
“Like it’s suffocating.”
I laugh at his deadpan response while he hands the judgy lady her fancy drink with a sheepish smile. I knew I could count on Oliver to actually look. There’s something about his unassuming appearance mixed with his surprisingly bold and biting commentary that draws me in. He’s a good dude–funny, and a hoot to hang around, when he’s not crying all over you, thatis.
“Right, but like, in an appealing way, or in a swamp thing way?” I’m mostly fucking with him, but having someone to joke around with like this is half the fun.
He narrows his eyes, tilting his head, and dropping his gaze back to my crotch. Quirking a brow as he replies, “That depends.”
I huff, “On what?”
“How much you sweat.” Oliver’s eyes twinkle with mischief, and I purse my lips at his cheek.
After a minute, he relents, “You know you look good, Seth. I know that you know you do, because I’m probably the very last person you’d ask for actual fashion advice.”
I try to keep a straight face—I trysofucking hard as I mumble with feigned shock, “What? What makes you say that?”
Oliver rolls his eyes as he wipes down the counter in front of him, "Because every time you see me, you list off recently deceased elderly men and ask which one I got my sweater vest from.”
His eyes dance with amusement as he pins me with a good-humoured glare.
My shoulders shake as I lose the fight to keep from laughing. This isexactlywhat I needed to release some of the anxiety about meeting Ryn later. I narrow my eyes and bite my lip as I contemplate his current sweater vest—an absolutely fucking hideous maroon and mustard yellow abomination that only Oliver could manage to pull off.
“Gerald? Or…oh, maybe it was that agropelter, what was his name? Harry!”
“An agropelter? Now that’s just rude.”
“No—rude would be suggesting Marvin the gumberoo shifter.”
Oliver studies me for a minute, pursing his lips, and then nods, “Yeah, that’s fair.”
We both huff out a laugh, but Ollie’s quickly tapers off as his eyes catch on something behind me. He turns all wistful-looking, and I chance a glance over my shoulder before quickly whipping my head back around and slouching down some.
Eleanor sits at a table by the window, taking notes in a little journal and sipping what looks like tea.
I feel kind of bad that my first reaction to seeing her again is panic and dread, considering she was actually super chill about everything after she regained consciousness on our last date. Maybe it’s some kind of awful-date PTSD response. I shiver at the memory of that day and watch as Oliver sighs, the yearning coming off of him in waves.
“Dude, have youstillnot talked to her? Doesn’t she come in here like—every single day?” I try to temper the disbelief in my tone, but at Oliver’s annoyed look, I can tell I did a shit job of it.
“Yes, she does, and I have talked to her, obviously. I have to take her order, don’t I?” His ears turn bright red under his shaggy, soft brown curls, and I give him an unimpressed look.
“I–it’s not that easy, Seth. My confidence is a lot better with the glamour, you know that. But as you said, she comes in here every day. She has done for months. I-I’ve tried to flirt with her in the past, and it was just—” Oliver winces and runs a hand through his unruly hair, his curls flopping around but somehow still managing to look mussed in an intentional way, “painful.”
“Aw, come on, man, it couldn’t have been that ba—”
“She offered me a tincture because she said I looked flushed and clammy.” He folds his arms and rests them against his midsection as he leans his hip against the counter.
“That’s not great, but it’s not terrible,” I try to sound confident, but really, that is pretty bad.
“Another time, she asked me if I might have accidentally imbibed a laughing lolly.Sheaskedmeif I was drugged because I couldn’t stop nervous-laughing. Let that sink in.”
