Two for tragedy. Volume 1 - стр. 7
While the weather was perfect for a vampire, I decided to take a walk around Prague. On foot. I rarely got the chance to walk around the city, as rain was a rarity this year, and overcast weather seemed to have given way to sunny days. I did not attend the university on too bright days, and now I had a large number of absences to my credit, for which no one dared reproach me. In addition to being one of the best students, I was a regular contributor to the accounts of my alma mater with large sums of euros. Commerce was to my heart for two reasons: firstly, I made my own schedule of classes, and I had no problems with my studies. The second reason was more trivial: my mother always said that grants should be left to the smart but unfit mortals. Besides, to take a grant away from a green human chick would be a real insult to my dignity.
As soon as I left the university I ran into a fellow student, Royce MacRessos, an ambitious American who occasionally annoyed me by trying to talk to me. Royce extended his hand to me, but I never shook hands with anyone, because my palms were inhuman, and I knew what people thought about shaking hands with us: we had icy hands. So I pretended to be frozen, hid my hands in my pockets, and frowned and muttered:
– It's dog cold outside, Royce.
The American glanced at his hand and, after a brief hesitation, tucked it into the warm pocket of his billowing jacket.
– Hi, Morgan! How did you pass? – he asked cheerfully.
– Yeah, the usual," I said, trying to keep it casual. Royce was starting to get on my nerves, but he didn't seem to realise it
– As usual is great, isn't it? I never doubted you, mate! – Royce said with an enthusiastic smile.
When I heard what a flattering word this overly friendly mortal called me, I felt a little surprised. In my worldview, the title "friend" had to be earned, not bestowed on strangers.
– How are you? – I asked politely, trying to keep up an unwanted conversation because of my damned sense of tact and thinking that people could be too intrusive. Royce McRessor is one of those people.
My interlocutor smiled his white-toothed American smile.
– Top marks! – he exclaimed, while I was plotting how to get rid of his presence.
– Congratulations on that. – This time I couldn't hide the irritation in my voice, but Royce was so happy that he didn't seem to notice my sarcasm. Or didn't want to. – I'm in a hurry.
I walked around him and headed for the car park, but suddenly remembering my planned walk through the city, I changed direction and headed for the exit of the university courtyard.
– Morgan! – I heard behind me.
I sighed unhappily, but turned around.
– I'll see you at the next exam! – Royce waved at me and walked to the car park.
Finally. Cut loose.
While I was reluctantly exchanging phrases with the annoying American, a small but frequent rain fell from the sky, and a small group of girls came out of the university. I wanted to continue on my way and leave the place safely, but suddenly I saw an intriguing familiar face among the identical smarmy faces, which, as it turned out, was etched in my memory. It was her. Yesterday's stranger from the Nusle Bridge was coming down the steps, buttoning her black coat as she went. Once buttoned, the girl raised her head, looked up at the grey rainy sky and smiled softly. And I interrupted my path and watched her like a stalker watching his victim.