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“Oh, look what it is!” the red haired woman said in an irritatingly singsong voice. “We're under the mistletoe!”
Tharja looked up dully, not moving an inch from her current position of chin-on-immaculately-manicured-hands. Above her was certainly a mistletoe, yes; some awful, shiny tinselly thing smelling of cheap factory, hung right in front of her nose by a string that was attached to a stick currently being held above their heads by this very same woman.
“Only because you've put it there.” Was this...a proposition? There was a very strong part of Tharja that wanted to do everything in her power to make this interloper leave her sight forever.
“Exactly. Get your honey in a corner, hang this baby above her head, and with a little Christmas magic, it'll be smooching time. She'll be none the wiser.” The woman winked roguishly, as if giving legitimate dating advice. “Just one payment of $19.99.”
Tharja decided to ignore the outstretched hand inching towards her purse.
“We're at a new year's party.”
“Even better! I'll give you 15% off the total price, seasonal discount at just $17.50, because I like your face.”
“That isn't 15% of $19.99.”
The woman dropped both her smile and the mistletoe stick and sat down at the table to stare Tharja straight in the eyes, face uncomfortably close.
“Listen, sweetheart—what's your name?”
“Tharja.”
“Tharja, that's such a beautiful name, I love it. I'd name a daughter Tharja. I'd engrave it onto the inside of a ring. A nice, gold ring, I have plenty that'd fit your fingers, were you in the market for buying anything like that?” As she spoke, her hand inched upwards to stroke Tharja's slim fingers, tracing the outline of her long, black nails.
She grabbed onto the closest of those wandering fingers and squeezed in a spot she knew was painful. “No.”
“Alright, maybe not, then.” The woman retracted her hand, yet didn't seem any less encouraged. “My name's Anna. What brings a lovely woman such as you to a place like this tonight?”
Tharja chose to take a sip from her drink instead of deigning to answer. If she drank enough, maybe the alcohol would start to take effect and she could get out of this idiotic conversation.
“Are you a friend of Robin's?” Her eyes flicked upwards despite herself upon hearing that name, and a knowing smile spread across Anna's face. “Oh, yes, of course you are. You two must be very close.”
Though Tharja hated herself for allowing the conversation to shift, the question tumbled out of her unwilling mouth anyway. “How do you know her?”
“Oh, just from here and there.” Anna paused dramatically, obviously with some sort of plan in mind. “You know, I haven't seen her at all tonight. Have you?”
Tharja stirred her drink, yet didn't take another sip. “I'm sure she's just busy tonight.” Why was she dignifying any of this with a response?
Anna's voice lowered to a whisper only barely audible through the gaps in the music playing, yet Tharja hung onto every single word.
“And what will you do once you see her tonight? You'll come up to her, after hours of waiting, hoping you'll catch just one glimpse of her, to be able to see her once again, to just say one word to her, and everything'll be fine. You have her all to yourself, now. No one around to interrupt the two of you, there's all the time in the world.
The first thing she says is just how good you look tonight, and she's understating it, trying to be polite because you haven't seen each other in so long, but, really, she just wants to get your dress on the floor right then and there, and you both know it. The second thing she says is 'oh, look, mistletoe.' And though you both know this is ridiculous, it's new year's eve, why are we kissing under a mistletoe, you hear the distant countdown on the TV from some silly people in some far off city waiting for a ball to drop, going six...five...four...three...two...one...
And both of you think to yourself, maybe this isn't such a bad way to start off the new year. So you take her chin, tilt it up, and you softly press your lips against hers, just like this.”
Tharja failed to realize at first that she was now being kissed by Anna in the exact manner described—and, even worse, that she was enjoying it. And yet she was too enraptured by this hypothetical scenario to break away or do anything other than allow herself to be kissed by this woman whom she didn't even know.
The kiss ended before its time with a finger to the lips, shushing words that Tharja had not yet composed. That finger then pointed upwards at that eyesore of a mistletoe, gesturing elegantly.
“Remember, you can have all that for just $19.99.”
Tharja shook her head by reflex more than anything, still too shocked to respond, but before she could even think it all over Anna began to furiously write on the back of some receipt laying on the counter, shoving it over in her direction with a smile, traces of dark lipstick now smeared over her mouth.
“Have a happy new year!”
And then she walked away without another word, still holding her so-called mistletoe, no doubt off to pitch to some other victim.
Tharja crushed the receipt in her hand but then unwrinkled it about thirty seconds later. It gave a phone number, with a heart at the end. Underneath it was written in cursive “If you don't end up seeing Robin tonight.”
She finished her drink in one swallow.