- "Why Would I Be Jealous Of A Fictional Character!?"

"You sure they'll come?" I ask, fiddling with my brand new cuff links, as I glance at the grand wooden double doors for the umpteenth time that night.

"They will," Alarice replies from her place beside me — we're sitting on the same side of a table for 4 — shrugging her shoulders without a care in the world. "Koy won't miss an opportunity to diss me, Anders-San,"

I look at her flatly.

"You get it? Anders-San, like Daniel-San from Karate Kid, the old movie, of course. Not the new one, I mean the new is one good too, great even, but I just love the old movie so much! I mean, how can you not? Daniel-San is so cute! His chocolate hair and green eyes are swoon-wort—"

"Seriously, Alarice?"

"Seriously, I think you've not seen him," She turns to the other side and whips out her Galaxy Note V from her huge purse, her long fingers flying over the screen in a rapid fashion, "Wait, I'll show a pict—"

"Alarice!" I call, glowering. She jumps in surprise and looks up from her tablet, her face bathed in the blue glow of the screen.

She looks like an innocent angel...

"What?" She asks, spreading the hand that's not holding her tablet to the side, raising her shoulders as she angles her body to face me fully.

"It's been one hour, I'm hungry as hell and I don't want to listen about "Daniel-San" and his apparent "cuteness"," I make air quotes with my fingers, feeling snippy as hell. "When the heck will they come!?" I exclaim and the confusion morphs into realisation in her angel-like features.

She smirks.

"You're jealous," she observes, a triumphant grin spreading across her painted pink lips.

"W-What!" I stutter, stunned. "Why would I be jealous of a fictional character!" I throw my hands up in the air, my eye brows shooting up.

"You so are." Alarice says with an unmistakable note of victory in her voice, reaching out a hand to pull up the imaginary collar of her shirt. I open and close my mouth in an attempt to make a comeback, because...because c'mon! I'm not jealous of "Daniel-San"! But unfortunately, nothing comes out.

She grins and leans forward, making her small diamond pendant glint as she grabs a breadstick from the woven, bamboo basket placed in the centre of the table.

She's been eating too much if you ask me, though my opinion doesn't matter.

"Denial is not good for health, my sweet little Anders-San, but anyway..." She says in a sing-song voice, her smile wide, as she pops the bread stick into her mouth, biting on one corner, "I think you should try these," She gestures to the basket, talking in between a mouthful.

I try to grimace, but an amused smile pushes past my playful frown, "Seriously—God I should stop saying that word again and again—but coming to the point," I say in one breath, exhaling when I finish, "I don't know how you can say the most random things at the most important time possible,"

She giggles, swallowing the food.

"I'm random like that," she proclaims, pointing to herself with yet another breadstick she just swooped, "But, I'm not just a random girl," she grins, nibbling on said breadstick.

I shake my head, "I think we all know that,"

I reach forward for a breadstick, my eyes refusing to move from her happy grin, only to feel my fingers blindly scramble at nothing. I reluctantly drag my gaze down, frowning at the empty basket. "I - I thought...wait, did you eat it all!?"

She grins sheepishly, patting her flat stomach as an involuntary burp escapes her lips. I cock a brow at her, and she freezes, her hand suspended halfway, about to take the glass of water beside her.

And then I burst out laughing.

Alarice joins me, recovering over her embarrassment when she realises that I'm not the least bit put off by her carefree and unladylike behaviour.

And just like that, I become friends with my kidnapper.

•••

One hour later, my stomach is full and sated.

"I've been played." I declare, glaring at Alarice who's trying to push the last piece of lobster fully into her mouth.

"What?" She asks, batting her eyelids. Her face is the picture of innocence, with her eyes wider than usual, but I see right through it, because the mischievous way her golden eyes are glinting in the candle light is a sign enough.

She does one hell of a puppy dog look though. She deserves credit for it.

"You lied to me that Koy will come," I say, jabbing my finger at her accusingly, my words dragged out with a slight slur.

I'm just a teeny bit tipsy.

Yeah, yeah, don't act like you will decline free wine. Wine that costs more than $1000 a pound.

"Of course, I didn't." She denies with a small shake of her head, pursing her lips in mock dismay, as if the mere idea of her playing me is ludicrous. "I would never do that."

"You totally did. Now I'm doubting if "Koy" actually exists," I say, letting my fork and knife slip from my fingers and land on my empty plate with a clang.

It's been long since I stopped caring what anyone thought of my manners in this way too high rated star hotel. Hanging out with Alarice makes you do that.

"Okay, fine!" She throws both hands up in defeat, admitting to being guilty of her crime, "I did, okay? I did. Only because we could hang out." Alarice narrows her eyes, pointing her fork at me.

I don't know if it was the wine, or if I was genuinely pleased that she wanted to be in my company, but a hearty laugh escaped my lips, "I knew it! I knew it!"

Alarice glares, her grip tightening on the bronze fork, "No need to be so smug, Anders." She threatens, the odd frown looking out of place than ever, "Time will come, one day, you'll be the one longing for my company."

"Oh believe me when I say, I already am." I blurt, and it takes me a second to comprehend that I actually said that statement out loud.

Gah. Your mouth really needs a filter, Anders!

Alarice, whose wiping the ends of her mouth with the small towel freezes, "W-What did you say?" She asks, her eyes slowly moving across my face, and if I didn't know better, I'd say the expression on her face was hope.

"I said, 'I already am'," I whisper, unable to control myself from saying it. If she keeps looking at me like that, I might give away all my secrets.

That's why you're not employed in the national security team, Anders. You'll blubber everything and give away your country for this girl.

Alarice stiffens. Like, not just her hand or fingers, but her entire posture stiffen. The skin around her eyes tighten and lips pull together, her entire face contorting into a mask of pure agony, "Oh Goddess, why oh why did you have to torture me with such cuteness," she mutters under her breath and looks away, almost as if just looking at me is painful.

"Cuteness?" I query, my confusion getting the best of me.

"Oh, fuck it," Alarice curses, confusing me further.

But everything becomes clear when she leans forward and places her lips on mine.

•••

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