Brie kept her eyes on him as she studied his face. Her eyes started at the black curls that flopped over his forehead and brushed against his brows. Then they moved down to his delicious, dark brown eyes that danced with amusement. She lingered there for a second, holding his attention, before she let her eyes wander down to the warm smile that was resting comfortably on his face.

He was just too good to be true.

"You know just what to say, don't you?" Brie said.

"What?" He laughed with that same smile. "You think I'm giving you a line?"

"I mean," she said. "Yeah kind of."

"I'm not, I swear." Markos said and he meant it. "I've never been more sincere."

Even with his reassurance, Brie still found herself holding back. There was no doubt that she was attracted to him. He had this air of mystery that pulled her in and left her wanting to know more. Who was this guy? And where had he come from? The not knowing was incredibly alluring to her, but at the same time, it was exactly what made her so hesitant. She didn't know anything about him or what his intentions were. 

He didn't seem like the typical playboy type. He was fit, but not overly muscular. He could probably hold his own in a game of kickball, but he was certainly no division one athlete. Still, it didn't hurt to be a little cautious. After all, she had been fooled before. Just because he wore sweater vests and tweed jackets didn't mean he was any less capable of breaking her heart.

"Oh come on," Markos said, sensing her reluctance. "At least just give me the basics. You know, where you grew up, siblings, pets, what type of music you listen to. All that good stuff."

"Well," Brie said. "If you must know..."

"I must," Markos insisted. 

"I grew up in Oregon. Right outside Portland with my mom, my two brothers, one older and one younger, and my three dogs."

"Oregon?" Markos questioned, his interest piqued. 

When he left his hometown in Massachusetts, he made it a point to see as much of the world as possible. He had seen the Running of the Bulls in Spain, New Orleans during Mardi Gras, the sunset at the Grand Canyon, and the sunrise over the rolling hills of Ireland, but Oregon was one place he'd never been. 

"You're a long way from home," he said.

With all his travels, he still ended up right where he started. As much as he loved travelling, he missed the comforts of home. Massachusetts was where he was born and Massachusetts was where he was meant to stay. It had his whole heart. 

"Yeah, that was kind of the point," Brie said. 

"You don't like Oregon?" 

"I do," Brie said. "But I just wanted something different. Something new and exciting."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Markos grinned.

Brie could tell by the look in his eyes that he was just waiting for her to say yes. For her to say that he was that something new and exciting she was looking for. But she wasn't quite ready to give him the satisfaction. Luckily, the waitress swooped in with their food, saving Brie from having to answer. 

A tray full of rainbow colored sushi rolls was laid out in front in them, inviting them to dig in. Brie took her chopsticks and did just that. She grabbed one of every color and placed them on her plate. Markos waited his turn, allowing her to take what she wanted first. When he was sure she was done, he filled up his own plate.

"You didn't answer my question," Markos said.

He wasn't about to let her off easy.

"That's very observant of you, Professor," Brie said as she brought a piece of sushi to her mouth.

"So you're not going to answer?" Markos inquired.

"You know, we've been talking a lot about me," Brie said, deflecting the attention away from her. "Let's talk about you."

"I could talk about me," Markos mused. "I could tell you all about my family, the choices I've made, and how I got to where I am now, but trust me, there's not enough time in the day."

"So that's how you want to play it, huh?" Brie teased. "You can know about my life, but I can't know about yours?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I did tell you."

"Are you done being cryptic?"

"You really want to know?"

"I do."

"All right then," Markos said.

Markos shifted in his seat as he leaned in close. He glanced to his right and then to his left before speaking. Even then, he kept his voice at a whisper.

"I'm a witch."

He felt comfortable telling her this not because he had a particularly high level of trust in her, but because he knew she would never believe him. Not in a million years. He knew enough about mortals and their inability to even consider anything behind what they deem possible to feel secure in his conviction. The evidence of magic could be staring them in the face and they'd still deny it. 

Of course there was always that chance that she would believe him. Telling his truth would always be risky. But he couldn't resist. He liked flirting with disaster. 

"What do you mean? You're a Wiccan?" Brie questioned in disbelief.

"No," Markos said, shaking his head. "I mean like I'm a real witch with magical powers far beyond your imagination."

"But you're a man, so wouldn't that make you a wizard?" Brie asked, still wildly unconvinced.

Markos sat back in his chair and contemplated her question. 

"Well, yes and no," Markos said. "Personally I feel the gendered terms are incredibly outdated. The way I see it, you practice witchcraft, you're a witch. There's really no reason why gender should be factored into it. It just makes things needlessly complicated and separating ourselves into witches and wizards only serves to divide. But gender classifiers have been around for generations and witchcraft is deeply rooted in tradition. The vast majority are unwilling to stray too far from what they know. Of course, there are factions of progressive witches who have fought against this, but even just changing identifiers is difficult. They've made some headway in recent years, but there's still a long way to go."

There was a moment of silence as Brie stared at him before she let out a laugh.

"You are so full of it," Brie chuckled as she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Just as Markos suspected, even with such a detailed and specific response she still didn't believe a single word he said.

"You really think I could make that up on the spot?" Markos laughed.

"I have no idea what lies you're capable of," Brie said. 

"I'm not lying," Markos said throwing his hands up in defense as he laughed. 

"You really expect me to believe you're a witch?" Brie said.

"The truth is the truth whether you believe it or not."

Brie looked at him shaking her head. She almost had to admire the dedication to this little bit of his. Key word, almost. 

"If you really are a witch," Brie said as she leaned in, challenging him. "Prove it."

"All right," Markos said. "See that glass over there? Look closely and you'll see it hover above the table."

Brie turned around in her chair to look at the glass. She smirked as she turned. She was more than ready to call his bluff. Markos leaned forward, squinting his eyes as he focused in on the glass. Brie watched closely, but the glass didn't move. Not even a millimeter.

"Nah, I'm just messing with you," Markos said, giving up the ruse.

"Omg," Brie said, pushing his shoulder playfully. "You're lucky you're so cute."

"You think I'm cute?" Markos said with a smile.

"Of course I do," Brie said. 

His smile widened as he basked in her words. He bit his bottom lip as he drummed his fingers against the table, his heart racing in anticipation. His eyes flicked towards her empty plate.

"You wanna get out of here?"  Markos said as he gestured towards the door.

Brie kept her eyes locked on him, entertaining his offer. Then, maybe against her better judgement, she nodded her head yes.