[There's a huff of vague amusement as she puts down his offer, though admittedly he'd known it was too easy. Because she's right; they both knew that he would tell her regardless. He's musing on what to offer instead, when she closes the distance, her fingers a whisper against his hand and--
That whisper of Russian shivers down his spine as she's softer than he deserves, more understanding. Gives him space and time, permission to tell her as he can, as he wants to. And there are so many pieces to the story, but he sighs, shrugs his shoulders a little.
There are the pieces that have always been there, too. The ones where he's no good for her, but too selfish to step away. He voices a quiet agreement, but figures he'll give her at least some of it as they talk.]
How about a date? [He says it before he can think better of it; talk about selfish.] Place is a bit lacking when it comes to upscale restaurants, but I can cook somethin' -- no pancakes, I promise. And there is a dance club sister to the sex club, sort of the PG-13 stage. Makes for a decent night out without the demonic affections.
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That whisper of Russian shivers down his spine as she's softer than he deserves, more understanding. Gives him space and time, permission to tell her as he can, as he wants to. And there are so many pieces to the story, but he sighs, shrugs his shoulders a little.
There are the pieces that have always been there, too. The ones where he's no good for her, but too selfish to step away. He voices a quiet agreement, but figures he'll give her at least some of it as they talk.]
How about a date? [He says it before he can think better of it; talk about selfish.] Place is a bit lacking when it comes to upscale restaurants, but I can cook somethin' -- no pancakes, I promise. And there is a dance club sister to the sex club, sort of the PG-13 stage. Makes for a decent night out without the demonic affections.