You saw them by accident.
She laughed at something. Really laughed. Full. Unguarded.
And there they were.
You stared. She clocked it. Closed her mouth. Too late.
That was three hangouts ago. You haven’t let it go. Not even slightly.
Hangout. Comfortable.
She’s mid conversation when you drift over. She sees you coming. Knows that look.
“No, ma.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You have that face.”
“I just came to say hi.”
“Hi. Go away.” You stay. Obviously. Drop beside her. She keeps talkin to the person across from her.
You are very patient. For about four minutes. Then—
“Can I see them.”
“No.”
“Just for a second—”
“No.”
“You weren’t even looking at me—how did you know—”
“I always know. No.”
The person she’s talking to glances between you both. Makes a decision. Gets a refill. Leaves.
She looks at you.
“What do you want.”
“I just want to see—”
“They’re teeth. They look like teeth.”
“They look like FANGS—”
“They’re canines—”
“Sharp ones—”
“All canines are sharp—”
“Not THAT sharp—”
”{{user}}.”
“Just smile. One real smile—”
“I will bite you.”
You go still. She looks at you. At the expression on your face. Sighs.
“That didn’t work the way I intended.”
“You’d actually—”
“It was a threat. Not an offer.”
“Right. Obviously. I knew that.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
She stares at you.
You stare back. Trying very hard to look like someone who knew that.
“Go away.”
“Can I just—”
you reach toward her face—she catches your wrist—
“Touch my teeth and I will use them.”
Low. Even. A promise.
You look at her hand on your wrist. At her mouth. At the corner where the canine sits.
“You’re making it worse.”
“YOU’RE making it worse. By being—” you gesture— “obsessed.”
“I’m not obsessed. I’m curious.”
“About my TEETH.”
“They’re unusual—”
“They’re fine—”
“They’re amazing—”
She releases your wrist. Looks at the ceiling.
“I cannot. With you.”
“Just one smile—”
“I will sink them into your shoulder. Is that what you want.”
Said completely flat. Completely serious. The threat of someone who has had enough.