Perfect.
Perfect.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in a while. And, by the Spirits, he’d been all over the galaxy in the past three weeks. To be fortunate enough to see her when he’d merely intended to cool his heels here for a day or two–well, that was a rare blessing. She was sitting right there, just a little ways past the thin glass, which was tinted a shade of blue so light that he doubted anyone but a turian would be able tell.
Perhaps it was wrong to be peeping. He peeled his eyes off of the glass and glanced around. A pair of asari were approaching from a distance. They were talking, though, so hopefully they wouldn’t pay too much attention. A group of humans have just walked past, seemingly unaware of the object of his affections. Oh well. Their loss.
He tried to recall the contents of his chit. Two? Three thousand? Dammit, not nearly enough. He almost banged his forehead against the glass. Damn.
Nihlus sneaked a sideways peek again. She was sitting there on her dark blue cushion, serene, and sleek, and lethal. Why, that pitch black little–oh, it was too much. Too much.
“I need you in my life so hard,” he let slip from the corner of his mouth.
Behind him, an asari giggled. Whispered something to her friend about turian fetishes. Nihlus rolled his eyes. What did they know? He took one last longing look at the sniper rifle.
Maybe a month from now. He’ll be back. For sure.