Stay

Haytham stamped his feet on the sidewalk before walking into the small coffee shop. The light sprinkling of snow in Saratoga didn’t do much for his mood since it made it harder to get around. He shook his head, pushing some wayward hairs back into his slicked back style. He stepped in line, looking up at the various ways perfectly good tea could be ruined on the menu. He was debating whether to just get a green tea and warm up or to get a chai and head out again.

There was supposed to be a snowstorm and he wanted to get home as soon as possible. He didn’t have time to get caught. The woman in front of him sneezed and shifted a little. Haytham backed up a step as she sneezed again, causing her dark bun to sag a little.

She paid for her drink and moved on. Haytham decided to get a green tea to go. After he paid, he looked down at the counter, moving to put a tip in the jar. A wallet was sitting on the edge. He glanced at the cashier. “Do you know who this belongs to?” he asked.

The cashier blew a bubble in her gum and let it pop. She chomped on it before saying, “I think that lady left it.”

Haytham looked around. He was just considering giving it to the cashier and continuing on with his day, but his gentlemanly instinct took over. He silently cursed his mother for hammering that into him.

“Which one?”

The cashier pointed. “That one.”

Haytham looked toward the door, seeing the woman who was standing in front of him earlier walking out.

He quickly grabbed the wallet and hurried over to the door. He glanced down both sides of the sidewalk, seeing the dark bun taking a right around the corner.

“Wait!”

Haytham hurried as fast as the frost on the sidewalk would allow. The snow was falling in fat flakes, obscuring his vision. He saw the woman setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk ahead of him.

“Excuse me! Miss!”

The woman looked over her shoulder, scowled at him, and kept walking. Haytham cursed the snow and wind and kept following her.

She suddenly walked into a bookstore. Haytham quickly followed, looking around as he stepped in. He saw her duck behind a bookshelf. He followed again.

She quickly turned around, pointing a finger in his face. “Are you touched in the head? Leave me alone!” she hissed.

Haytham suddenly realized how pretty she was. Her tan skin and dark hair gave her an exotic look and her bulky coat didn’t hide her slim figure. She crossed her arms, deep brown eyes glaring at him as she tapped her foot.

Haytham held up her wallet. He couldn’t stop the smug smirk from coming to his lips when her eyes widened in realization.

She snatched it out of his hand and eyed him warily. She opened it up, checking it.

“I didn’t take anything. And I’m sure I was the only one who noticed it,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. He made a face when the now-cold liquid ran down his throat. What a waste of two dollars.

The woman finally put her wallet in her coat pocket. “Thank you…for going out of your way and all.”

Haytham shrugged. “Well, my day was already shoddy. And I was wondering what my mother would say if I didn’t try at least,” he said, trying for humor.

She arched a brow. He was rewarded with a little smile. An awkward silence fell over them. He gestured to the door, clearing his throat roughly. “May I-ahem-escort you out?”

She nodded, walking toward the door. Haytham walked beside her. “I apologize if I frightened you,” he said when they neared it.

The woman waved his apology off. “You don’t have to apologize. I would be down a wallet if it wasn’t for you.”

Haytham grinned a little. For some reason, he wanted to talk to her more. Due to his lifestyle, he never really had time for dating and such things. There was rarely women that caught his eye anyway.

This woman, though, did. He studied her face, suddenly noticing little freckles that danced on her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose.

She looked out the window and frowned. “I’m not going out in that.”

Haytham looked and his stomach dropped at the sight. So much for getting home on time. He sighed, tossing his cup in the trash. The woman bit her lip. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” she asked, gesturing toward the little café in the bookstore.

Haytham shrugged. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

She smirked and walked toward the café.

“So what is your name?” she asked as they made it to the line.

“Haytham Kenway. You?”

She paused, as if she was debating something. “I’m Ziio,” she finally replied.

Haytham held back a grin. Ziio. That was a strange name. Bloody Americans.

“So…is that short for anything?” Haytham asked, trying to keep the conversation up. He didn’t want things to get awkward.

“It’s short for Kaniehtí:io.”

Haytham’s eyes widened in surprise. “Gad-zi-”

Ziio rolled her eyes. “Hence the nickname,” she said, cutting him off. She smirked up at him.

Haytham scratched his cheek, clearing his throat roughly.

“Don’t feel bad. Not many people can speak Mohawk after all.”

Haytham studied her. “You’re Native?”

“And you’re British, big deal,” she said, smirk growing wider.

Haytham looked away, clearing his throat. This woman kept getting him off balance, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. Haytham was no stranger to conversation. He knew he would be what some people would call a charmer or charismatic.

But this woman…he couldn’t seem to get a sure foothold into starting a conversation.

Again, he wasn’t sure if that put him off or intrigued him.

They finally arrived at the counter. Haytham looked up at the tea selection, ordering green tea again.

Ziio ordered a coffee and they made their way to one of the tiny tables next to the window. Haytham sipped his tea, studying her over the rim of the Styrofoam cup. She looked out the window, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Do you always stare at people?” she suddenly asked, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

Haytham grinned. “Depends on the person.”

Ziio looked down her nose at him. “So why stare at me?”

“You intrigue me.”

“How so?”

Haytham set his cup down, resting his arms on the table. “Well, for one: I can’t start a conversation with you without sounding like a berk. Second: I’m wondering why I can’t start a conversation with you.”

She smirked. “You are now.”

Haytham shrugged. “Well, after I botched up your name I don’t think things can get any worse.”

Ziio snickered.

Haytham held back a frown. “What?”

“You’re so British.”

Haytham furrowed his brow. He couldn’t tell if she was making fun of him with that statement or not. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve met other British people, but you’re the best one,” she said, chuckling a little.

“I have no idea what you’re implying.” Haytham really was confused. Best one? What the bloody hell?

“You just say all the slang and you act so…proper. It’s amusing,” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

Haytham took a sip of his tea so he wouldn’t frown at her. He got what she was implying now. She was saying he was a posh snob.

“Don’t expect me to start singing God Save the Queen anytime soon,” he said, setting his tea down.

She laughed out loud at that one.

Haytham grinned. Now he was getting somewhere.

---

Ziio peeked at Haytham out of the corner of her eye, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets. She was still wondering why she decided to go on another date with him. The first time he asked her out, she had hoped they would go out and then he would lose interest, like anyone else who had done so in the past. Then he asked her out again. Ziio enjoyed the second date, actually giving him a chance that time. She was actually excited when he called that third time.

She usually didn’t like arrogant, pompous, and handsome men that thought they towered over everyone else in the world. She didn't know why she was attracted to him though.

It’s because he’s different, a little voice in her head told her.

Yes, he was arrogant and pompous, but he didn’t act like he was God’s gift to earth while being that way. He stood higher because of something else she hasn’t quite put her finger on yet.

She could tell he was older, despite the fact they haven’t told each other how old they were. The crow’s feet were already forming at the corners of his eyes gave that way and he also had a mature air about him. She was guessing late 20’s or early 30’s. She also wondered why she was agreeing to go on dates with someone significantly older than her, her being 20 this year.

He was good looking, though. She couldn’t deny that. She never had someone of his caliber take interest in her either. She wondered what a man like him saw in her.

He was walking her back to her apartment near downtown Saratoga. He had insisted when he couldn’t find a parking spot closer to it.

He was a gentleman, and she was enjoying that fact.

“Bloody hell it’s cold,” he growled, blowing on his hands a little.

Ziio grinned. He really was the most British person she had ever met. Not even the British wannabes here could compare to him. “You never told me how you came to end up here,” she said, looking up at him expectantly.

Haytham shrugged. “I was told that one of the best law schools in the world were here and I needed a change of scenery, so I came.”

“Why law?”

“It’s a profession. And something I took interest in when I was younger. And so my mother would get off my back.”

Ziio cocked her head. “So you were a bum?”

Haytham chuckled. “No…I couldn’t continue with what I really wanted to do so I turned to this instead.”

“What did you do before this?”

“Fencing. I was going to compete in the Olympics, but I was injured so I can’t compete anymore.”

Ziio’s eyes widened in surprise. “Fencing?”

“Yes. Fencing. I saw some Arab sword fighters in the middle east when I was on a trip with my father and that was when I decided I wanted to do it,” he paused and looked down at her, “What about you? You never told me what you were studying.”

Ziio bit her lip, wondering if she should tell him. She took a small breath. “Art.”

“Studio Art? Art History?”

Ziio was surprised by his reaction. People usually were indifferent or looked down on her major. “Studio.”

“Do you paint or do ceramics?”

“Both.”

They fell into silence. “How do you know about that stuff?” she asked, amused.

Haytham shrugged. “My sister was an art major. I was the only one she would talk to about it.”

Ziio nodded, feeling a little disappointed when they reached her apartment complex. She walked up the stairs to the third floor, getting her keys out. Haytham stood at a respectful distance. She decided to try a trick one of her girlfriends told her about. She started to fiddle with her keys, hoping he would get the hint.

He didn’t seem to, much to her irritation. Looks like a girl has gotta do what a girl has gotta do. “I have some pieces in here, if you want to see them,” she suggested, finding her key easily.

Haytham looked intrigued. “All right.”

She led him in, walking down the hallway. She was suddenly grateful she decided to tidy up that morning. She led him back to the spare room in the apartment that she used as her own little personal studio. She turned on the light, grinning a little at the paintings she had been working on lately.

She had been trying to use the style her people used in the past, telling a story that her mother used to tell her when she was little.

Haytham walked around, browsing. He gestured to her most recent one she had been working on. “What do they mean?” he asked, glancing at her.

Ziio walked over next to him. She pointed to an earlier work. It showed the Goddess standing in front of her children. “It tells the story of a goddess my people used to believe in. She went through many trials and hardships. My people believe that she still watches over us,” she explained, looking up to see his reaction.

He looked interested, turning to look at the other pieces involved with the story. “These are very good Ziio,” he mused as he browsed.

Ziio felt a little pride in his compliment. She watched as he walked around the room. His broad back was turned to her as he looked at another piece. She could tell he used to be an athlete now, if she couldn’t before. She let her gaze trail down as he shifted his weight.

“What does this one mean?” he asked, pointing at another one.

She grinned. Now was her chance. “It tells of how the goddess still watches over us,” she said, walking toward him. “How her ears still hear our words.”

She trailed her hand across his back as she walked to his other side. “How her hands still guide us.”

She stopped and looked up at him. He turned to face her, meeting her gaze. “And her love still gives us strength,” she finished, stepping closer to him.

He looked torn, looking down as she reached out and grabbed his hand. Ziio decided that she liked his hands. They were strong and calloused yet elegant all at once.

“I…I should go,” he said quietly, not looking like he wanted to.

Ziio reached up on the tips of her toes, resting her lips against his. He kissed her back, tightening his grip around her hand. She reached up and rested her hand against his cheek as he deepened the kiss. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her as the kiss became more heated. Ziio held his face in her hands, pulling him down a little more.

She felt his hands bunch up in her coat, pulling her closer to him. She buried her fingers in his hair, tugging a little.

He groaned a little, causing her to wrap her arms around his neck. Ziio felt like she was floating as one kiss melted into another.

He suddenly pulled away, panting as he looked down at her. “Bedroom?”

“Next door.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice.

---

Haytham groaned as the morning sunlight hit his eyes. He felt a weight on his chest and he looked down, grinning sleepily when he saw Ziio’s head resting on it. He tightened his grip around her waist, recalling what happened last night.

He actually hadn’t planned the second and third date with her. He had thought the first one would be a total failure and then he could move on with his life. But the complete opposite happened. Every minute he spent with Ziio only made him want to be around her even more.

He didn’t know why he kept going when his brain told him to stop when she kissed him. Ziio had that effect on him evidently. She sighed, causing her breath to fan out across his chest.

Haytham almost couldn’t believe that he was there. He had never expected this woman to accept him that quickly. He didn’t even think about being intimate with her until last night. He had planned to take things slow this time around.

He made the decision a few years ago that he needed to actually be in a relationship with someone before being intimate with them, since he was tired of the girls just coming and going in his life.

Ziio sighed again. She yawned, looking up at him. She stretched out, causing her whole body to press against his. Haytham held back a groan at the feeling. She smirked at him. She propped herself up on her elbow, resting her chin on her palm. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

She flopped back down on the bed, stretching again.

Haytham knew he would have to get out. He knew women only slept with men early on when they were bonkers and trying to make a man care about them that way or they were just looking for a scratch to that itch as well.

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” he said, feeling his heart sink. He actually really didn't want to leave. He tried to find reasons to stay.

Ziio gave him a coy look. “Or you can just stay,” she said, grinning up at him.

Haytham’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What? Did you think I would kick you out?” she said with a breathy laugh.

Haytham tightened his grip around her. “I assumed as much.”

Ziio grinned, bringing her face close to his. “Well, you assumed wrong. Besides, you spilt one of my paint cans last night. You're going to buy me another one.”

Haytham was never one to like being wrong or being told what to do, but this was an exception.

He stayed.