(Untitled)
It's easy enough to repair - it was just... well, dirty again. Not to mention that someone tried to clean it by just simply dipping it into the cleaning fluid.
It just doesn't work like that. Really.
So, a bit of cleaning, a bit more replacing - like the horribly dented back - and he's done.
Oiling the spores helps, too.
Surprising even to himself, ( Read more... )
It just doesn't work like that. Really.
So, a bit of cleaning, a bit more replacing - like the horribly dented back - and he's done.
Oiling the spores helps, too.
Surprising even to himself, ( Read more... )
"No," she tells someone impatiently. "I told you, I-- oh damn. I have to go. I'm at that cute watchmaker's, didn't I mention him? I'm already running a little late-- what time is it?"
She doesn't wait for the person on the other end of the line to respond, instead pulling her phone away from her ear to glance at the time display. "Six-oh-three. Sorry, bye! Catch you later."
And Iris hangs up with a beep, slipping her cell back into her purse and tugging impatiently at the broken zipper.
By the time she enters the door of the shop she's lost whatever confidence her friend instilled and is her same shy, uncertain self again, blushing faintly when she lays eyes on Gabriel because all she can think of is how she called him cute over the phone.
At least he couldn't possibly have heard her. Nobody has ears that good, right?
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That doesn't mean it's showing on his face - unless she's really paying attention to how insecure he's acting - acts all the time, actually - and insecure people just don't pay attention to that sort of thing as a general rule, more concerned about how they're being perceived by everyone else.
So he's pretty certain that she doesn't notice him blushing. But then again... cute. It has so many meanings. So many. A teddybear is cute. A baby is cute. A little naive boy is cute. He... isn't sure whether she meant it like... oh, the endearing watchmaker. The sweet, polite, unassuming watchmaker. It's... far too vague to presuppose anything at all. Not to mention vain of him.
Anyway, regardless. She's here now, and she's here for the watch, not to wax philosophical on wordplay.
"I was done one and a half hours ago," he says with a smile, getting up and picking up the watch. "Wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I've actually... fixed it before."
Smiles again. Holds it out to her.
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Iris blushes again, and if her fingers happen to brush against his when she takes the watch - if she happens to keep her hand there just a second, just a tick too long before retracting it, timepiece retrieved - surely it's just that she wanted to be certain not to drop it.
And she might not notice him blushing, but Iris has a talent, deny it though she will. As much as she tries to keep her nose out of other people's business, it's her tongue that can't help picking these things up, and the complexity of flavour that is Gabriel's emotions is unavoidable at this distance. Still, she shouldn't pry, but--
"When?"
She can't help being curious. So many stories even a little thing like this watch might have to tell. (She'd love to trade places with it for a day, being looked at by those soft brown eyes like a precious artifact...)
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Oh, right, the watch. It's the watch that's important. He almost forgot.
"Oh, about a month or so... it's no big deal," he says, shaking his head, trying to get rid of the mental image of that--
He really does hope she doesn't try to come back and fix him. He's not her broken little puppy, he thinks almost bitterly, but it doesn't show on his face.
"Anyway, it should work fine for you now. Come back if you have any more problems," he says.
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"Sorry--" she says awkwardly.
It's not like she could explain what she's sorry for without sounding crazy, but she hates upsetting people. It always makes her feel like she's doing something wrong. Sure, there's no way she could have known that question would bring up unpleasant memories, but still.
"I, um... yeah. Thanks. I will."
She offers a shy smile, not entirely sure what's keeping her from walking right out the door.
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He frowns. "No, it's... just bad memories. But the watch is clearly in better hands now." Why did she even nag him to fix it so insistently if she wasn't even going to keep it? So important to her. Right. As if.
He nods again, his hands in his pockets, not sure either what she's still doing here. Awkward moments.
He wonders whether she has a lot of them.
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Her smile gets even more hesitant, if that's possible, and she tilts her head (to the left).
"Thank you," she says softly. "That's... sweet."
And ducks her head, because giving compliments to a man whose first name she doesn't even know is uncharted territory.
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He shrugs, smiling. "Don't mention it. It's just a fact."
She's... sweet, too, really, and he can hardly wrap his mind around that.
But he has to watch himself; she looks young - she can't be older than--
He isn't sure.
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"Still," she says, her smile becoming just that much broader. "You're sweet."
And then she can't take the embarrassment anymore; she looks at the ground and backs swiftly to the door, her face being rapidly overtaken by a vibrant blush.
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Unexpected? Certainly.
He's sweet? And cute?
If it wasn't for the blush on her cheeks and all that embarrassment...
Though, granted, if she's young... there's always the option that she means like a candy store, or even a teddy bear. He frowns, playing with the hem of his shirt.
Awkward. Right.
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