He was staring, he knew that – the quirk of her eyebrow and the tilt of her chin told him that she was aware, too – so he should stop, pretend to be cowed, carry on his way.
But how could he, when she was in the vision? So instead Savino let the grin vision-him had worn spread on his face again, though here at the market he lifted a hand in a wave rather than a pointing gesture, and bounded over as though he recognised her.
Recognised her in a normally acquainted way, that was. He caught up to her in a few quick strides, trying to seem cheerful and blank and not-paying-much-attention when he opened his mouth. “Luciana–!” Savino declared, breaking off there as if he had meant to say something else like there you are! or I’ve been looking for you for ages, where did you disappear to? “Oh, forgive me...” he offered instead, faltering obviously as if he had only just done a double-take and realised his mistake. Truthfully, as he looked over the stranger’s scarred forearms and blue eyes, it was for confirmation of his correctness rather than any error.
Because it was her. It was her, and he couldn’t just start with I saw you in a vision, because if her challenging look had told him anything, it was that he was already on the back foot and he didn’t need her to write him off as suspicious or strange. Not this fast, at least. Be normal for now, Savino. “Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew,” he said easily, a little apologetic and a little conversational, scanning the stalls around them as if he were still looking for someone other than her. Never mind that Luciana would never have been wearing a bloomer suit in public. Their mother would have crucified her first. “I’m looking for my sister,” he lied anyway.
But how could he, when she was in the vision? So instead Savino let the grin vision-him had worn spread on his face again, though here at the market he lifted a hand in a wave rather than a pointing gesture, and bounded over as though he recognised her.
Recognised her in a normally acquainted way, that was. He caught up to her in a few quick strides, trying to seem cheerful and blank and not-paying-much-attention when he opened his mouth. “Luciana–!” Savino declared, breaking off there as if he had meant to say something else like there you are! or I’ve been looking for you for ages, where did you disappear to? “Oh, forgive me...” he offered instead, faltering obviously as if he had only just done a double-take and realised his mistake. Truthfully, as he looked over the stranger’s scarred forearms and blue eyes, it was for confirmation of his correctness rather than any error.
Because it was her. It was her, and he couldn’t just start with I saw you in a vision, because if her challenging look had told him anything, it was that he was already on the back foot and he didn’t need her to write him off as suspicious or strange. Not this fast, at least. Be normal for now, Savino. “Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew,” he said easily, a little apologetic and a little conversational, scanning the stalls around them as if he were still looking for someone other than her. Never mind that Luciana would never have been wearing a bloomer suit in public. Their mother would have crucified her first. “I’m looking for my sister,” he lied anyway.
