Would you dance with me?
Title: Dancing with No One {Medium}
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Warnings: Delinquent behavior and the word anorexic. But really, nothing terrible.
The first time George invited Megan to anything like a date, they'd known each other for six and a half months. It was an art show and he plainly refused to tell Megan why he wanted to take her instead of Leila-mei. So she agreed because she didn't have anything better to do, but there was a catch. She wanted ice cream afterwards or no dice. So George agreed to take her out to ice cream and that Saturday they went out to town to go to the art show.
When they got there, George said he had a few things to do and that Megan should look around until her came back. It was a showing of Nieva student-work, so most of it was exceptionally good. Except a few of them Megan criticized because the shading wasn't right or the model's proportions weren't quite right. Then a particularly spectacular painting caught her eye and she went over to look at it.
It was a black canvas with a dancing girl in a pale green ball gown on it. Except it seemed like she had no dance partner until you looked really close. It was as if the artist had outlined her partner and them decided that he didn't want to paint them. Megan crossed over the ropes surrounding the painting to get a closer look, not noticing the sign that said “please don't cross the ropes”. A security guard told her to get out, but she wasn't really paying attention. George came back then and crossed over the ropes to her. The security guard was really pissed by then and George turned around and looked the guard in the eye.
“Look,” George sighed, “I painted this. She's my model. It's her painting. Ergo, she has the right to stare at it for as long as she wants.”
The guard sputtered, “But, sir, rules are rules!”
George winced, “I told them I wanted it hung on the walls like all the other paintings. It's their fault really. Come, Megan, let's go.”
Megan turned around then and apologized briefly to the guard. George tugs at her arm and they run out of the stuffy gallery, the far away cry of “don't run” unheard. They race down the street to a restaurant Megan hasn't heard of before and she looks up at George, who smiles.
“I promised you, didn't I?”
Over a dish of strawberry ice cream laced with cherries and whipped cream, Megan and George talk about this and that. Megan gets whipped cream on her nose and George wipes it off, they laugh. There is only so much serious you can fill a day with, she thinks. Then she asks a quiet question.
“George-kun,” she whispers, “when did you sketch that?”
He laughs, “The day Ai-kun dumped orange juice over you and you threw your miso at him. The costume department came up with a dress for you and a suit for Ai-kun. And then Matt started dancing with you...”
“It wasn't a ball gown,” she retorts, “it was some sort of summer dress that they made but it didn't fit the play. I wouldn't have worn a ball gown if you promised me all the money in the world!”
“Aw, but it would look spectacular on you! You saw the painting.”
“Whatever,” Megan shakes her head, “why didn't you paint yourself in?”
“What are you talking about?”
Megan pouts, “You outlined a dance partner. It had to have been you because Matt isn't that much taller than me and the hairstyle wasn't right for Ai-kun.”
“... Would you dance with me?”
“It's your painting. Why wouldn't I?”
“No... I mean really, truly... Would you dance with me?”
“If you mean right here, no. If you're asking me to the drama-set dance... Sure. As long as you don't make me wear something like the dress in that painting. It makes me look anorexic.”
Megan thinks it would be nice to have a dance partner. She also thinks that she better sew herself a dress before George finds one for her.
Dialouge! ^_^U
+
Warnings: Delinquent behavior and the word anorexic. But really, nothing terrible.
The first time George invited Megan to anything like a date, they'd known each other for six and a half months. It was an art show and he plainly refused to tell Megan why he wanted to take her instead of Leila-mei. So she agreed because she didn't have anything better to do, but there was a catch. She wanted ice cream afterwards or no dice. So George agreed to take her out to ice cream and that Saturday they went out to town to go to the art show.
When they got there, George said he had a few things to do and that Megan should look around until her came back. It was a showing of Nieva student-work, so most of it was exceptionally good. Except a few of them Megan criticized because the shading wasn't right or the model's proportions weren't quite right. Then a particularly spectacular painting caught her eye and she went over to look at it.
It was a black canvas with a dancing girl in a pale green ball gown on it. Except it seemed like she had no dance partner until you looked really close. It was as if the artist had outlined her partner and them decided that he didn't want to paint them. Megan crossed over the ropes surrounding the painting to get a closer look, not noticing the sign that said “please don't cross the ropes”. A security guard told her to get out, but she wasn't really paying attention. George came back then and crossed over the ropes to her. The security guard was really pissed by then and George turned around and looked the guard in the eye.
“Look,” George sighed, “I painted this. She's my model. It's her painting. Ergo, she has the right to stare at it for as long as she wants.”
The guard sputtered, “But, sir, rules are rules!”
George winced, “I told them I wanted it hung on the walls like all the other paintings. It's their fault really. Come, Megan, let's go.”
Megan turned around then and apologized briefly to the guard. George tugs at her arm and they run out of the stuffy gallery, the far away cry of “don't run” unheard. They race down the street to a restaurant Megan hasn't heard of before and she looks up at George, who smiles.
“I promised you, didn't I?”
Over a dish of strawberry ice cream laced with cherries and whipped cream, Megan and George talk about this and that. Megan gets whipped cream on her nose and George wipes it off, they laugh. There is only so much serious you can fill a day with, she thinks. Then she asks a quiet question.
“George-kun,” she whispers, “when did you sketch that?”
He laughs, “The day Ai-kun dumped orange juice over you and you threw your miso at him. The costume department came up with a dress for you and a suit for Ai-kun. And then Matt started dancing with you...”
“It wasn't a ball gown,” she retorts, “it was some sort of summer dress that they made but it didn't fit the play. I wouldn't have worn a ball gown if you promised me all the money in the world!”
“Aw, but it would look spectacular on you! You saw the painting.”
“Whatever,” Megan shakes her head, “why didn't you paint yourself in?”
“What are you talking about?”
Megan pouts, “You outlined a dance partner. It had to have been you because Matt isn't that much taller than me and the hairstyle wasn't right for Ai-kun.”
“... Would you dance with me?”
“It's your painting. Why wouldn't I?”
“No... I mean really, truly... Would you dance with me?”
“If you mean right here, no. If you're asking me to the drama-set dance... Sure. As long as you don't make me wear something like the dress in that painting. It makes me look anorexic.”
Megan thinks it would be nice to have a dance partner. She also thinks that she better sew herself a dress before George finds one for her.
Dialouge! ^_^U