Amon gave a slight nod when Pygmy held the door open for him. He appreciated it, he really did. But her words made him roll his eyes in slight irritation. So defensive was she! Secretive, as if she was trying to retain some mystery that was necessary for her very survival. And perhaps it was. When they sat down at Pygmy’s preferred table, he settled the box of weapons on the floor, content and relieved that his shoulders would no longer ache and cramp from the burden of carrying it. But the girl’s words still stirred heavily in his mind. Never had he screwed around with whores or promiscuous women in the like, but the vibe from her implied some form of shady behavior. He shook his head warily, tapping his temple with a gloved hand before he spoke. “I would not want to pry, I guess. But then if you will not tell me where you are from, at least you will enlighten me on how you came about those eyes. They are fascinating.” A crooked grin. It was true. By then he had gotten used to them, but it was still very much intriguing. What was the harm in knowing? A moment later and the waitress approached, placing a hand on her jutted hip, staring at them almost impatiently. “Well? What’ll ya have?” She barked. Amon looked at Pygmy for a moment. “I will have what she is having.” |