H/V, Date-3 and Outcome-1 for Fluffity Fluff Fluff.bluntforcesJuly 16 2012, 00:04:52 UTC
It's not the Rink at Rockefeller Center. Really, a girl like Zoë Novak deserves the Rink at Rockefeller Center. Better, even. Maybe some sort of diamond skating on the moon.
Something like that.
But there's something so wonderful about being out of the City--in general, really, but particularly with her, with one of the scarves his mother has knit him over the years wrapped around her neck snugly and the ice formed naturally on a pond by the winter rather than men. The air tastes fresh, clean. The cold feels sharp, bracing, the sort of weather that makes a person feel alive.
So maybe the skates are banged up hockey-stakes rather than beautiful white figure-skates. Maybe most of the ice is kids under the age of twelves with single mothers hovering near the edge with paper cups of cocoa. Maybe it's nothing like Rockefeller or the moon. Hopefully she'll understand half of why this is so much better.
Zoe Novak has been to the Rink at Rockefeller Center. On shiny white figure skates, even, in a hideously expensive 'skating outfit' with her twin brother and her twin brother's boyfriend as a very well-dressed third wheel. This is more fun, and she beams up at Evan as he adjusts her scarf.
"I grew up in Connecticut, not Florida. Of course I've skated before."
Not on dates. But the dates she'd gone on in college had been very much like interviewing for spouses. Breeding? Check. Money? Check. Good manners to take her out to a hideously expensive restaurant? Check. Boring as all hell?
"Doesn't hurt to check," he tsks softly, tugging her just a little closer by the scarf for a firm kiss on the cheek. She's warm. She's always a little warm. It's sort of lovely.
But everything about her is lovely. Including, amazingly, the fact that he's pulling an arm around her to pull her out onto the ice with him. Him of all the people she could be curled against the side of on a winter date.
"Maybe you're the one person from New England who genuinely hates winter sports."
Date-8 and Outcome-3. RNG is being surprisingly accurate.bluntforcesJuly 16 2012, 00:36:31 UTC
He's not entirely certain which of their mutual friends decided this would be a good idea. He's not entirely certain this doesn't count as some very odd and circuitous form of almost-incest, the way they've grown up together, the way she's half been his sister their entire lives.
Evan loves Sophie. Dearly. Really, he does. But there's something supremely awkward about bringing her roses taking her for a picnic.
So he'll just be awkwardly tossing grapes into the air and catching them in his mouth. Six in a row is impressive, yes? Yes.
RNG friend zones Sophie! XDonlytolerableJuly 17 2012, 23:22:19 UTC
He probably feels awkward because he knows Sophie well enough to realize she'd be happiest with a handful of wildflowers than anything fancy. But she smiled her thanks for the lovely peach-hued flowers before putting them in water.
And now they're sprawled on a blanket, Sophie half watching clouds and half watching Evan be bored. Honestly, the entire situation is ridiculous. She plucks a grape off the bunch and tosses it at him. Catch that, Evanator.
RNG ships only more horrible things. o/bluntforcesJuly 18 2012, 03:52:32 UTC
He barely has time to perk up, start to ask if she's serious, before a grape is heading his way. It's aimed well, but unexpected, so he nearly falls over onto his back jerking to catch it.
"--higher?"
Because, well... Maybe things weren't right for them as a couple, but they'd never not be friends.
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Something like that.
But there's something so wonderful about being out of the City--in general, really, but particularly with her, with one of the scarves his mother has knit him over the years wrapped around her neck snugly and the ice formed naturally on a pond by the winter rather than men. The air tastes fresh, clean. The cold feels sharp, bracing, the sort of weather that makes a person feel alive.
So maybe the skates are banged up hockey-stakes rather than beautiful white figure-skates. Maybe most of the ice is kids under the age of twelves with single mothers hovering near the edge with paper cups of cocoa. Maybe it's nothing like Rockefeller or the moon. Hopefully she'll understand half of why this is so much better.
"You've skated before, right?"
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"I grew up in Connecticut, not Florida. Of course I've skated before."
Not on dates. But the dates she'd gone on in college had been very much like interviewing for spouses. Breeding? Check. Money? Check. Good manners to take her out to a hideously expensive restaurant? Check. Boring as all hell?
Oh, honey, you have no idea.
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But everything about her is lovely. Including, amazingly, the fact that he's pulling an arm around her to pull her out onto the ice with him. Him of all the people she could be curled against the side of on a winter date.
"Maybe you're the one person from New England who genuinely hates winter sports."
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Evan loves Sophie. Dearly. Really, he does. But there's something supremely awkward about bringing her roses taking her for a picnic.
So he'll just be awkwardly tossing grapes into the air and catching them in his mouth. Six in a row is impressive, yes? Yes.
Reply
And now they're sprawled on a blanket, Sophie half watching clouds and half watching Evan be bored. Honestly, the entire situation is ridiculous. She plucks a grape off the bunch and tosses it at him. Catch that, Evanator.
"It's no challenge if you do it yourself."
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"--higher?"
Because, well... Maybe things weren't right for them as a couple, but they'd never not be friends.
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