Si Inday

Kape

"So... anong balak natin, ganda?" Martinez managed with a half a pandesal in his mouth.

Inday poked the yolk of her egg with a fork, and scooped it onto her bread. "Hm..." she hummed.

Martinez would never tell you this, but he looked forward to hearing Inday speak, like, actual sentences. He doesn't have a crush on her, he'd say, but in the short couple of months they had known each other, Inday never spoke when it wasn't necessary.

She wasn't shy, it wasn't anything cute like that, Martinez decided. Inday had no problem communicating with bus drivers or sales clerks. In fact, he was sure he remembered seeing her tell off a cop once when they were attempted to be taken in for questioning for being suspicious.

At the time, someone who looked to be a member of Maharlika's police force insisted that Inday's group follow them to the station. To which Inday simply replied, "May warrant po ba kayo?" And the moron didn't attempt again.

It isn't shyness, Martinez thought. That's not the right word for it, Indiferrence, maybe? he concluded.

Martinez took a sip of his coffee, and peered at Inday from behind his mug. She held a half-eaten pandesal, and was looking into the distance as she chewed.

Because Inday spoke so little, Martinez found himself in the weird position of looking forward to hearing Inday talk. Stupidly, it felt like he was being deprived of something that would otherwise usually always be available. That's usually a package deal when you have a travel companion: you get someone who can spot your things while you're in the restroom, and you get someone to talk to on the 12-hour bus ride to your destination. But as it stood, Martinez was doing the talking for both of them on this trip, and it was kind of frustrating.

"Sa totoo lang, hindi ko alam." Inday started gently. Martinez didn't notice he was holding his breath.

Inday looked at him, her pretty face squinted a little as she seriously juggled options in her mind. "Ikaw ba, wakwak. Anong balak mo?" she prodded.

Martinez sat up slightly, surprised the attention was switched over to him. If he's being honest, he didn't really have a plan. He assumed that tagging along with Inday was the plan. Whatever followed during the trip, whatever side-quest or errand that needed to be done, he'd just be game for that. So he said this, honestly.

"Kahit saan, ganda. Basta kasama kita." he took a sip of his coffee, and hung an arm around the backrest of his chair.

That wasn't very helpful, Inday thought as she put her mug down. She kind of hoped he'd have some sort of lead for her - a place he needed to go, or people he could see. If anything, maybe he could have pitched a job he was willing to do. They'd need money eventually, so maybe getting a part-time job as a kargador somewhere would suit an able-bodied guy like him. Lost in thought, she absent-mindedly replied,

"Alam mo buti nalang pogi ka."

Immediately as these words left her mouth, she wished she could've eaten each syllable back.

"Tingin mo pogi ako?" Martinez coaxed from across the table. His head was tilted in questioning, and he had one eyebrow raised, attractively.

Martinez was amused. Whatever words he expected to come out of Inday's mouth today, Pogi was not at the top of his list. He wasn't going to let this slide, this was a once-in-a-lifetime slip. He pressed on,

"Oh ano? Ba't natahimik ka," he leaned closer. He was a big guy, and usually this intimidated most people. His... size had a different effect on girls too, usually, and he was hoping it would yield a similar result this time around.

He expected Inday to shift in her chair. He expected Inday avoid his gaze, or even drop the subject out of embarrassment. He met her eyes, and he realized he was leaning too close to her side of the table. Or maybe the table wasn't that big to begin with.

But Martinez was a little disappointed when even in this position, Inday's indifferent expression never changed.

He was ready to admit defeat, and was about to recoil back into his chair. He started to push his weight off the table, and prepared a spiel on changing the subject, when he realized Inday held him in his place. By his chin.

She shifted her grip from his chin to instead holding his jaw. And Martinez remembered Inday had aswang strength.

Martinez's throat felt dry, but he was not about to look intimidated in this situation by gulping. Inday held his gaze, with the same indifferent expression on her face.

"Sorry," Inday spoke into the little space between them. "Hindi kita type."

Martinez stilled.

What were you even supposed to do in a situation like this? Did he win? Did he lose? Martinez processed the warmth of Inday's fingers around his jaw, until she let go. And then he processed how bare his skin felt the moment her hand left his face.

And then, only then, did his mind just finally process what his skin wanted to say, Do it again.