~   t w o   h e a r t s   b e a t i n g   a s   o n e   ~

Summary: A series of glimpses in the Dead Heart world. SLASH.

Note: I found some stuff that I wrote a while back about Jordan and Edward, nothing quite dramatic as Dead Heart was, and if it is, it's on a much more quieter scale. Just a few brief, stolen glimpses into their lives. Jordan-centric mostly, because I love that Edward is such an enigmatic figure.

one. lunches in autumn

"You'll like this one."

Anita says it every time, as a result the sincerity of the remark would be just about as believable as a politician's promise. Jordan does these friend-of-a-friend things to simply avoid the inevitable whining that would ensue if he refused.

It didn't hurt that there was always free food involved.

Jordan wisely says nothing in return, noisily slurping down his tea to stall a smartass remark.

"You could ask me something about him, you know," she says disapprovingly, eyebrows furrowed. "It might help to start up the conversation."

"I have no interest in having any kind of conversation with anyone," he briefly flashes her a grin, one that shows too many teeth to be called a real smile. "Unless it has something to do with food. I'm starving. Can we order already?"

Anita frowns for a moment. "So much for manners."

Jordan shrugs, leaning back into his chair. "I slept for only five hours last night, all loving thanks to a paper for my history class. I missed work, I probably got fired, and I'll end up living in poverty in less than a week. Yeah, manners. Write me a ticket."

His pretty companion smiles wryly. "You're already living in poverty if you live in a dorm."

"Oh, piss off," Jordan laughs good-naturedly. "At least I haven't been whoring myself out in the streets to afford your bloody mansion."

"I make an honest living paying for the rent, which is why I have no furniture," Anita sniffs, making a show of reading the menu. "And my apartment isn't a mansion."

"Well, when you're living in poverty your expectations in life take an abrupt nosedive. Hey? You ever tried dish eight?"

"Take a look at the price and guess."

A low whistle: "Okay, I'll take that as a no. We should've just gone to McDonalds."

The corner of Anita's lips quirk, but her voice is dead even. "And what's this you were saying about McDonalds being a corporate evil intent on fattening everyone to the brink of immobility?"

"It's called an opinion based on paranoia," Jordan says dismissively, tilting his chin up slightly. "Besides, the food is cheaper there."

"Ahhh, right."

They don't say anything for several minutes. Finally, curiosity stomps out Jordan's better sense with a renewed vigour. He glances up casually from his menu, trying to be nonchalant.

"How old is he?"

"Twenty-three."

Good. It's only a four-year age difference. Anyone five years older than him was right up there with prehistoric artefacts.

"Last boyfriend?"

"Four months ago."

I won't have to be dealing with a broken heart then, Jordan thinks approvingly.

"How long did it last?"

"A month or two. He said they were too different."

He wonders if that should worry him. He pushes it aside for later. If he had a post-it, it would have been labelled "most likely result of a pursued relationship: emotional baggage and very expensive psychiatry".

Anita obviously sees his thoughts and conclusions processing in his head, immediately launching on the offensive.

"Edward is a really sweet guy," she says softly, lime-green eyes thoughtful. "He's a bit quirky, but it's all in good nature. He's got a wit sharp enough to spear a titanium wall through, definitely would give you a run for your money. Conversations with him are hardly ever dull. And he's interesting. How many guys have you ever heard me say that about?"

She looks at him expectantly.

Jordan stares back and reluctantly answers in a mumble. "Samuel Anderson. First love of your life in high school, etcetera. Spare me the little hearts that usually dance around your head when you hear his name."

"Give Edward a chance," Anita smiles, putting a hand over his. "Please?"

"Fine," he mutters, looking up at her through his hair with a growing smirk on his face. "But is this Edward guy just as cute?"

Anita squeals (there is just no other word to describe the sound) and squeezes his hand. "He's gorgeous!"

"He better be," he mumbles into his tea cup, dropping his eyes.

"Oh, look, there he is," she waves at someone along the busy sidewalk. "You'll love him, I swear— Edward, over here!"

Jordan turns to watch Edward's approach.

The first thing he notices are storm-grey eyes.