Purple highlights?
The stranger's hair was unmistakably streaked with purple highlights, but still the same shade that caught Xal's attention 7 years ago, a purple tinged with red, which was supposed to be the color, Sangria.
His heart tightened at the memories flashing through his mind, but he forced them away.
Out of habit, though, he kept observing the stranger, years of training kicking in.
"…I would've just quit. Working as a waiter would be less stressful," the stranger continued over the sounds of clattering and chattering, gesturing as if he was personally offended by the unfairness of corporate life.
He must have sensitive skin, Xal thought, noting the tear burns at the corners of both eyes, which he had previously mistaken for makeup.
But that was the second thing he noticed.
The first was the stranger's pale purple almond eyes, fixated on Xal's wrist, apparently oblivious to being watched in return.
"Speaking from experience?" He kept the conversation going, and the stranger's gaze flicked from his wrist to his face.
"He he. Thank God, no. I have my own…" A pause. "…service-oriented business." The way he said "service-oriented" piqued Xal's interest. Again, the stranger's attention fell to his wrist, tracing to his own and back to Xal's, only snapping up when the waiter arrived.
He thanked the waiter with a bright smile as Xal took the drink from him and went quiet. He took a sip, letting the refreshing sweetness flow down, cooling his insides and confused thoughts.
"Good for you. Damn, I miss my old job. At least I could punch assholes and not go to jail," Xal said after another few sips.
"Interesting job you have had," the stranger replied, sipping his drink, wiping the water droplets from the cup, and folding the used tissue neatly before placing it under it.
"Nothing special. I was a bodyguard for a family. They requested some illegal shit, and here I am, trying to get a decent job so that I don't have to quit again."
Not that he completely regretted his choice, but he'd come to realize how unfair the corporate world was.
"You were a bodyguard?" The stranger's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Yes," Xal answered, driving his attention back to catch a tapioca pearl with his straw.
"Were you good at it?" He asked.
"Wanna test-" Before he could finish, the stranger leaned forward over the table and threw a punch right at his face. His fist connected with Xal's palm as he effortlessly caught it firmly an inch from his cheek, without even looking up, and pushed away.
Too light. He analyzed.
The stranger pulled his hand back, flapping it as if shaking off the pain.
Xal smirked at the small grimace the man tried to mask.