el toro
/
but when the sun's this low, everything's cold
This was, frankly, embarrassing. Yep! There it was. Toro was convinced that everyone thought he was so desperate, he had to go on a blind date. In another court. Alone. (Isn’t everyone else going alone? A sane person might ask. His mind says: Don’t people bring friends to double dates? I don’t have any friends. Don’t tell me it’s not a double date. I already know!) He’s asked Hajduk not to come with him; the lion is inside Toro’s head anyway, and despite Hajduk’s insistence that a magic lion will make him “seem cooler, just like he wanted,” Toro has decided he must go it alone. Alone. Alone.
Toro’s gift was this: a necklace which featured a golden serpent swallowing a citrine sun, its rays a ring of tiny, circular garnets, and its tail and head connected to a chain, so the serpent could settle at the base of the wearer’s neck, guarding her heart. It had cost - well. He wasn’t spending the money on much, anyway. It didn’t matter. Why think of the price when - when - he thought back to the merchant, smiling at him knowingly when he shied away from the question of ‘who.’ The jeweler had winked and said, “We all have our secrets.” It took Hajduk to tell him that she was more likely than not implying that he was having an affair. “Two girls,” Toro had said. “Imagine.” He’d buy such jewels for them both.
The meadow was blanketed with a layer of snow, even whiter than he; he would have appreciated the snow had he not been more concerned that it made him look yellow. The lights strewn about did enough of that, he decided, turning him orange with their glow. Night brought a chill upon the world that the Solterran was unaccustomed to, and it was with great apprehension that he stood there, shivering, waiting for his date to arrive.
