Veils of ink and linen

She had moved two seats closer to him this time and exchanged the light beer for a mojito. She had found her courage. It tasted like rum, soda and lime. She just needed a natural way to start the conversation. That’s where she got stuck last night. Just staring at him from the far end of the bar, as he made cocktails and bantered with strangers. At least she had a better view this time, and could even pick up bits and pieces of his conversations.

Everything around her looked like a holiday postcard come alive. The open-air bar, made of wood, stone and white paint, overlooking the small island village. The dark sea waters reflected the moonlight and the lights from the waterfront shops. Sunburned faces drinking and bobbing their heads at the rhythm of soft lounge music and singing cicadas. He looked part of the postcard too.

His suntanned skin contrasted with his white linen shirt, evidently the must wear item in a Greek summer. His hair was peppered with silver streaks of age and tied in a short ponytail. A short stubble framed his pronounced chin and honey-colored eyes observed everything around him. He smiled easily at strangers approaching the bar and received bashful glances in return. She could see the allure, even if it all felt a bit too idyllic.

She breathed deeply and with a voice louder than expected, she spoke. “You seem to be very popular around here.”

He smiled to himself. Apparently, she had managed to conquer her fears this time, and say something other than her order. He replied while moving toward her.

“After working twenty years behind this bar, you get to know a lot of people.”

“Well, being the owner also helps,” he added with a wink.

He took some time to study her, and gave her space to come up with a response. Her English carried the precise yet melodic pronunciation of the Nordics. Dirty blonde hair framed her sunburned but youthful face. Her freckles softened with the help of women’s magic brush. A northern beauty like any other, if not for the heavy piercings in her ears and nose. Jagged lines of black ink marred her arms and thighs, partly hidden beneath blue jean shorts.

She was a mix of mismatched puzzle pieces. Her appearance screamed rebellion and brazenness, yet her attitude was demure. She fidgeted with her bracelet, searching for something to say. Yet her hazel eyes stayed locked on his, unwavering. He decided to end her suffering and spoke again, although he could already guess her answer.

“So, where are you from?”

She didn’t waste a second this time. “Where do you think I’m from?”

It was a young adult’s idea of flirting with words. He certainly had been just as guilty at her age. He pinched his chin and furrowed his brow, striking a thoughtful pose before providing the obvious answer.

“I have an ear for accents, and a weakness for pretty women with golden hair. I’d say Sweden?”

Her mouth failed to sound out her words. She nodded instead and focused on her drink.

Her reaction was more unease than the amazement he was going for. He softened his expression and reached out a hand towards her.

“Apologies, I forgot to introduce myself. It seems manners go away at the first sight of gray hair.”

“My name is Manolis, but my friends call me Manos.”

She pressed her finger on the stubby metal spikes of her bracelet once more, and reached for his extended hand. Her handshake was abrupt, like she miscalculated the distance. Her hand felt clammy but firm.

“I’m Karin, pleased to meet you.” She whipped her hand away from his and rubbed it on her jean shorts.

Manos pretended to ignore her move. He didn’t want to pile on the embarrassment she felt about her sweaty hands. Instead, he continued.

“A beautiful name! So, Karin how come you are travelling all alone to our little island?”

“I have been dealing with some issues lately. Personal issues. I need space to think.”

“Bartenders are just cooler psychologists. If you want to share with a friendly stranger, I’m here. Or you can tell me to piss off!”

He’d swear she was about to take the second option, seeing as his attempt to crack a smile out of her had failed again. But in the end, she opted to open up.

“I broke up with my boyfriend recently. He wasn’t nice to me for a long time, but I thought it was just a phase. Lately, things escalated.”

He turned serious and gave her the undivided attention. He found himself reevaluating her contradictory nature. The vulnerability she showed at his jokes and light flirting, her timid attempts at getting his attention. Ironically, she showed no emotion when she opened up about her ex.

“If you want to call yourself a man, you protect your woman. You don’t harm her. So good riddance!” He slapped the bar as an exclamation mark to his point.

A few patrons jumped from the seats at the sound, others leaned in their seats, looking for their next source of entertainment. Karin didn’t flinch. She remained unfazed by his speech, searching for something in him, weighing his words. His name was called from the other side of the bar, and he headed that way, feeling thankful for the excuse to break away from her gaze.

Karin leaned back and sipped her drink in silence. She watched him go up and down the bar, spreading compliments, winks and the occasional cocktail. He never stayed long again, but he checked in on her a couple of times, offering kind words like a diligent parent comforting a wounded child. His sympathetic looks, however, never found their mark. They drifted down to her body. On the walk back to her hotel, she replayed the night in her head. She had done well, but she still had far to go.

Manos could feel her hazel eyes fixed on his back every time he spoke to someone else. She was back again, same seat, more talkative than ever. He’d left mid-answer a couple of times just to fan the flames. It amused him how the roles had shifted. This time, the man was playing hard to get.

He found Karin’s boldness endearing, despite all the ink and metal. He chalked up her earlier apprehension to the asshole ex. She wouldn’t be the first nor the last tourist looking to escape her past in the warmth of another man. He would be more than happy to help.

“Manos, do you ever find time to enjoy the summer? To do something fun with your wife or your girlfriend, or even your friends?”

He smiled at the question, appreciating once again her direct approach. Not that a pretty woman like her needed to be smooth.

“Unfortunately, my dear Karin, I’m all by my lonesome.”

“I find that hard to believe. I‘ve only been here three nights, and every time you’re surrounded by beautiful women.”

He chuckled. It seemed his nonchalant attitude was paying dividends.

“Present company included, Karin. I had relationships in the past. They didn’t work out.”

She ignored the compliment and pressed on.

“Do you have regrets about them? Did you make mistakes you wish you’d take back?”

Memories resurfaced under her unrelenting gaze. His words turned bitter.

“There’d been a few times. They were tourists. I ended up living with some of them. Around the year mark they went back to their ‘real’ lives. They fell in love with the island, not me. And then winter came. Boarded up stores. The summer glamour muffled under tarps. Some even dared to return a couple of summers later, strutting around with my replacements.”

“So in the end, you’ve never done anything wrong. It was always their fault.”

He could almost see the mocking tone spilling out of her retort. He was tempted to fire back with a mention of her ex, but her expression stopped him. Her nose wrinkled. Her eyes went wide, unfocused, staring into the bottom of her drink. Retreading the past might’ve brought out bad memories for her too. He forgave her outburst, though the sting lingered.

He left without a word, returning a while later with shots, a fresh mojito and his signature grin bolted back in place.

“Here’s to your island adventures. Away from the past, enjoy the now. Geia mas!”

Manos kept the shots coming, trying to loosen the mood after their last exchange. The tequila burned sharper with every round. He’d been drinking all night, and with closing time fast approaching, the alcohol was starting to take its toll. It seemed he wasn’t the only one affected.

“Do you think people can change?” Her words drawled from liquor.

Was she still thinking about her ex? Enough of that.

“Do you know that restaurant at the edge of the pier? With the fancy modern Greek décor?”

Her cheeks flushed with color.

“Ah. I see you had the ‘pleasure’.” He gave a conspiratory wink and continued.

“They renovated the interior and bought pricey dinnerware. But they never changed their cooks. They still serve shitty food, just in fancier plates.”

He paused for a beat, letting her disgust with her meal drive his point across.

“People can’t hide their true nature. Not for long.”

By the time he finished, her head bobbed in agreement and a short snicker slipped out. The corners of her mouth stretched into a smirk, never reaching her glassy eyes.

The few remaining customers fizzled out as the early hours of dawn arrived. It was only him and Karin. She didn’t ask if she should leave. She didn’t even glance at the time. The previously timid Karin must have made her decision. He poured himself two fingers of whiskey and sat next to her.

“Tell me, Manos. Do you let your true nature show or you keep it hidden, like the bad cook?”

He burst out a laugh before he focused back on her. Her intense stare was back. Her body quivered with tension. Her shoulders straightened, her chest puffed up. His eyes explored the curves of her body, noting everything previously obstructed by the bar between them. Finally, he looked up and stepped close enough to feel the heat of her breath.

“Why don’t I show you, Karin? You‘ve wanted to know for a while, haven’t you?”

He was closer. His hand gripped her thigh, feeling the tight, smooth skin under his fingers.

The liquor’s fog burned away the moment his hand touched her. The heat crawled inward, dredging up her fears, fracturing every thought in her mind. She opened her mouth but only a gasp escaped. Sweat dripped down to her lips, urging them to speak.

“I’m... I’m sorry. It’s late. I have to go back. Please let me go.”

“Oh, come on. My house is right around the corner. It’s not safe. A woman like you, wandering alone on empty streets, in darkness.” His voice was filled with worry, but his hand pressed tighter, creeping up until it found the zipper of her jeans.

Her body trembled. Sweat drenched her clothes, sending shivers down her spine and jolting her to action. She pushed out her chair, and rushed towards the exit. By the time she was out the door she was running without looking back. She heard his shouts, an unintelligible mix of English and Greek. She didn’t want to know what he said, she just wanted to escape.

The midday sun flashed through the small bathroom window and nudged at Karin’s consciousness. Half her face was numb. Spikes of pain shot through her neck. It was the smell that fully woke her. She had fallen asleep after a night of puking, her only comfort the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl. She rubbed away the gunk that held her eyes shut and tried to stand. Crawling on her knees in search of painkillers was the best she could manage.

She wasn’t sure how many to take. She felt stabs of pain in her head every time she tried to read the instructions. Until a memory popped up. She remembered the worry and warmth in her mother’s blue eyes, undermining her scolding about Karin’s first hangover. In the end, she fussed over her the whole weekend. She followed her mom’s old advice and swallowed two pills. Tears spilled out again, she wiped them away in annoyance and crawled towards the shower.

She came out when she ran out of soap. Her whole body looked shriveled from the water and rosy from the heat. Her thigh was a few shades of red darker. She took off her earrings and went looking for the curling iron and the blue dress among her things. Her stomach still heaved when she thought about him. She just had to find the courage for one more night. She had to finish it.

It was closing time and she still hadn’t shown up. He had been kind. He had humored her awkward attempts at flirting. And she reacted like he tried to take advantage. Her shock and revulsion replayed all night in his mind. Drinking made it worse, clouding other thoughts, leaving space only for her. She wanted to humiliate him, to boost her fragile ego at his expense.

He stumbled his way around the empty tables and managed to lock up. He walked the short distance towards his house, stopping mid-step when he finally noticed the woman waiting outside his door. The street lights cast her in a spotlight, pulling at his blurred eyes, urging them to focus. She wore a pale blue dress that ended just below her knees. It was the kind of style women wore in his younger days. Blonde curls framed the pale familiar face, tugging at his memories.

It was the lack of piercings, the hair. He only recognized her from the posture. The same proud stance as last night. She looked straight at him, tension in every limb.

He stepped closer and said, “So, little Karin finally found her courage.”

In the end she had crawled back, she had even dolled up for him. It was almost enough to forgive her.

“They say I look exactly like her when she was young. The only thing I didn’t get was her eyes. What do you think?”

His liquor drenched mind screamed at her words, but his body moved on instinct. His hands found the small of her back and pulled her into him. His lips brushed her ear and whispered.

“No more running away, Karin. You want this too.”

She tried to push him away again, to play her games. He wasn’t about to let her disrespect him a second time. His fingers explored curves his eyes had only feasted on until then.

“Take your fucking hands off me!”

A shearing pain exploded from his face. Her claws dug deep into his skin. The shock shook loose some of his haziness, replacing it with pain and anger. He reacted. He drove her down to the ground.

Her breath tore from her lungs as she hit the concrete. He was on top of her, staring at her chest, rising up and down, struggling to breathe.

Golden curls, drenched in sweat, stuck to her forehead. Blood streaked across her dust covered cheeks. Her mouth agape, fighting for air. Her eyes were blue.

He blinked. Twin pools of hazel returned. Her nose smaller. Only dust on her cheeks.

Another blink. Blue returned. Blood returned.

He recoiled from her, crawling away until his back touched the front door. Her shimmering face had bitten his mind like a poisoned snake. Tears flowed, washing away dust but not his exposed self.

He jumped back when Karin moved. She got up, dusted her dress off, wiping the hair from her brow. She stood tall in front of him, making him squirm under her gaze. He stayed silent. Her gaze trapped him, leaving him cowering in shame and fear.

When she turned to leave him, he let out a panicked whisper.

“What... Who are you?”

He clung to his house door, as if it could bring him safety. The man who still held her mother captive in fear. She gave him one last look before leaving and spoke.

“I’m the consequence of your true nature.”