Title: Mint Perfumed Death

Pairing: Warren/Layla

Rated: T for… almost cussing.

i.

She remembers a time when everything was so much easier. A time when looking pretty for Will and showing him the new trick she had for them lilies at the side of his house: how she could make them grow enough to carry her upstairs to his room.

To him. They were so happy weren't they? What had she done wrong?

(But Layla's done with the puppy dog eyes and the excuses and the sorry but she called and …Done with it.)

She looks back at her phone one last time (as were all the other last times) because the restaurant is already closing and really she's just so tired. She can hide it behind a cheery exterior and a bright smile and the fact that her hair is a bright, happy red helps.

(But, ultimately, she drove the ball to Stronghold's side of the court and it seems he was too busy already playing another match.

A completely different sport. )

ii.

She's so concentrated on feeling sorry for herself she doesn't notice him walking calmly towards her, or what he said to her, and only really pays attention to him after staring blankly for some time.

By the time it clicks, by the time she remembers where she'd seen him before he's already staring at her warily.

"Hey!" and she puts on her best smile because it is always proper to do so.

(And also because she really didn't want to be torched into the ground… Or thrown into the wall, really, because he has the skills and the muscle to do both…)

She stares at him.

(… at the same time.)

"…" He doesn't answer, just looks at her with skeptical eyes and she feels the blush going up.

"Um," Layla clears her throat delicately, and tries to start properly this time. "We go to school together...?"

(…Really? That's the best she can do? That's properly?

Oh god. This man will be the death of her.)

iii.

His eyes narrow and, "You're Stronghold's friend."

She cringes lightly, but tries not to show it much – she's a lady, after all. So when she says "Yeah…" and he responds the same way, the awkward silence that follows annoys her a bit.

(Everything in her life always leads up to Will. Always.

And once upon a time she used to like that. That she was so interrelated to him their lives just couldn't be separated. She tries to kid herself and say that she still does.

Now that's just plain bullsh-)

"Do you want me to heat that up for you?"

She jumps a bit, and stares at him with wide eyes before whispering, "You're not supposed to use your powers outside of school!"

He leans in and –

(He smells like mint. Like charred, burnt mint and something a bit more dense, more substantial and dark, so dark it consumes her as she breaths it in like a dying man below water and –)

"I was just gonna stick it in the microwave." His voice has dropped to a whisper, just like hers, and he's smirking a bit cockily, like he's messing with her or something.

She huffs out a laugh, and feels a bit winded. She tells herself it's because she's laughing at the silly mistake she did, and that she blushes because she's embarrassed.

(She feels a shiver down her spine, and his voice was so low it's almost possible it reached down to touch her, because surely he isn't as near as she thinks he is.)

((She wants him to be closer.))

iv.

"Uh, I was… supposed to be meeting Will here but, um…" She slowly lifts her head up and looks bashfully at him.

He averts his eyes, a bit uncomfortable probably, and she takes a lunge.

"Do you want to sit down?" And then he's looking at the empty restaurant, his bosses down at the other table, measuring the pros and cons and possibilities…

"I think I can spare a minute."

(When he snaps his finger to light the candle, she doesn't need to bite back the school laws she's about to spout, because with him she just… she just doesn't feel like saying them. Instead, she laughs and grins.)

.

.

.

v.

(Afterwards, when she wants to write down the fortune he gave her, on the small strip of paper he handed her she reads "Long life is in store for you."

But by that time Warren's probably already home and the responsible part of her brain – which is almost all of it, she's sad to say – tells her she doesn't know his address, she doesn't know him and she has homework to do.

The next day, when he gives her that smirk of his and promptly accepts to be part of her plan – a mistake, really, because she is so not good at these things even if he tells her not to worry, that he will teach her and she feels that shiver and an almost moan– she can't stop the unrestrained grin and almost, almost giggles.)

((This man… this man will be the death of her.))

fin.

Review, prett-ay please. Anything goes. I haven't written in a long time and I frankly don't usually write in a girl's perspective, so this is slightly new.

Hope you like it :D

Cookies for all!