(Untitled)

[risen_from]

The lovely lady who is sitting at the Bar has a cream-colored slip of a sundress, a coy smile, and a slender flute of pink lemonade.

(What? Not everything has to be alcoholic.)

If she sees you, she is likely to smile-- but exceptions will certainly be notified.

[ooc: slowtime in 3ish hours. have at 'til then! everything will be picked up

Comments

[honorbyname]

Albus isn't exactly staring.

But - uh. He's never seen a lady as pretty as Aphrodite before.

[honorbyname]

[ooc: if this post is closed by now, plz ignore! But I've been meaning to tag 'Dite for a while. ;D]

[risen_from]

[ooc: not too late! I am delighted!]

[risen_from]

Aww, boys.

Aphrodite's smile for him is one surpassing sweet, and she gives a little wave with slender fingers.

[honorbyname]

The only thought in Albus' head at being caught looking is 'Hofsidhfhnngh'.

But he does manage to keep enough wits about him to return the smile with a terribly shy and vaguely shaky one of his own.

[risen_from]

The narration will skip reiterations of 'awwww'; the gentle reader should presume that they are subtextual throughout the remainder of the thread.

"Hi," she calls pleasantly.

[honorbyname]

Her voice is pretty too.

Waugh. Wait.

She's talking to him.

She said something.

Right.

"Um. Hullo."

[risen_from]

Aphrodite will just nnnnever get over adorable boys. It might be a Greek thing.

"I love Bar's pink lemonade," she says, drawing out the word love. And she smiles; a bright, girlish smile. "I'd highly recommend it."

[honorbyname]

"R-really?"

He glances at her pink lemonade, not having had the chance to notice it yet.

And yes. It's ... it's very pink.

"I usually drink - um. This." He gestures to his mug. "It's Butterbeer. M'not sure if you've heard of it before?"

[risen_from]

"Butterbeer," Aphrodite repeats curiously.

(Does that mean he can drink? :O

He doesn't feel immortal, which would be her go-to explanation.)

"No," she says, shaking her head, "I haven't-- what is it?"

[honorbyname]

(Alas, no!

Though it might help to ease his nerves, if he could drink.)

"It's um. Sort of like liquid butterscotch, only not so sweet it'd be disgusting," he explains, rather proud of himself for not stumbling over his words like a foal being born. "It's quite common in my world."

[risen_from]

"Oh!"

Aphrodite could clap her hands in delight.

"That sounds scrumptious," she sighs pleasantly. "And that's what you're drinking right now?"

[honorbyname]

He nods, swirling the contents of his half-finished mug absent-mindedly.

"I could - um. Buy you one if you wanted to try?"

It distantly occurs to him that ... he's never bought a drink for a woman before.

[risen_from]

She'd been angling for just a sip ... but men do so often surpass her expectations.

This is matched in about equal measure with how often they don't.

"That would be wonderful," she replies, with a surprised smile.

"Thanks very much, Mr ...?"

[honorbyname]

He'd been a bit wary about sharing his own butterbeer. One, because there isn't terribly much left; and two, because sharing with a complete stranger might invite all sorts of odd germ-sharing ... things.

(Yes, this is really how his mind works.)

"Erm. Potter," he replies shyly. "Albus Potter."

[risen_from]

"Potter," she repeats, smiling.

"Nice to meet you. May I call you Albus?" She takes a brief moment to feel sorry for the poor guy that his parents named him Albus. "I'm Idalia."