Your eyes are what stuck with me. One inner ring of gold, with an outer ring of milk-chocolate brown. The outer ring matched my skin. I didn’t make a big deal of the eyes. Biotech could do all sorts of things. It’s probably why you didn’t ask why my eyebrows grew a deep violet and the streaks of my bangs, a deep blue.
We met for coffee as promised, though you didn’t order anything. I brought your brown, leather jacket. Damn thing was as heavy as a person. I made sure I wasn’t wearing heels. Didn’t need another repeat.
“Not going to yell at me today?” you asked.
“Only if you want me too,” I said and actually laughed. I hadn’t done that in a long time.
“I seem to always run into you. Do you live close by?” I said.
“You could say that.”
Why were you so damn mysterious?
“Will you finally tell me your name then?”
I caught those gold and brown eyes staring outside, at the protesters that had gathered at the corner. They held their signs above their angry faces. They had drawings on the signs, drawings of Androtrons. Their human-like faces had red, demonic eyes.
Most of the signs said “NO MORE TRONS. ALL ARE CONS.” I watched a little boy, no older than ten, waving a sign around with a melted Androtron drawn on it; its human face burned away to show the robotic metal underneath.
“I didn’t get to thank you,” I said.
You tried to give me your smiling eyes, but they didn’t convince me.
“You already did,” you said.
My look told you I thought you were delusional. It only made you chuckle.
“That day in the rain. The way you looked at me.”
I didn’t even get to order before you said you had to go, scooping your jacket up as if it weighed nothing.
“Hey, wait,” I said. You looked a question at me.
“You know, they say if you meet a person three times in a day, your fates are entwined,” I said.
The smile you gave made my cheeks grow warm.
“Then, I hope to see you later today.”