[Fic] first round knockout
Title: first round knockout
Fandom: Crossroads
Characters: Muramatsu Ace, Yomohiro Tomoe | Ace/Tomoe
Word Count: ~474
Rating: K
Warning/s: None
Summary: They talk about tea, of all things. | Ace, Tomoe and the long overdue first date
Disclaimer: Crossroads is the brainchild of the wonderful mods over at I:U. Ace is the original character of the wonderful Drinn. I'm just playing in their sandbox, yo.
Notes: I had to write this, because of all the heartbreak warfare happening to Acetome in canon. Huhu my writing is disjointed and stuff because my literary juice has dried up, but here bb, the other lifetime she made him stay. Of course, sorry for any lambasting of characterizations.
It's the third week of classes before she recognizes him seated near the back row of the room, and maybe it's because he isn't wearing his shades or because his hair is styled quite differently, or that she sits near the board and devotes her attention whole-heartedly to the lectures that it takes this long before he's registered in her radar.
It's in the middle of a discussion about solenoids and magnets, and the professor calls out a name that has her looking around so fast but
he gets it right just as she turns around fully to look, and his gaze sweeps over to her, meeting her eyes.
At the end of the lecture, She packs her things for the next class; she's being neat, not dawdling.
He approaches her with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his jeans.
They talk about tea.
Of all things.
When the conversation comes to a lull, he asks her to dinner, for old times' sake.
For once, she accepts.
(The surprise washes across his face and she hides her smile behind the back of her palm.)
He's a gentleman the entire night, taking her to a fancy restaurant, opening doors and pulling chairs for her. He's witty and funny, dressed up in a suit with the top buttons undone, and she doesn't doubt that as soon as she steps out of his car and joins him, she becomes the envy of the other women.
When she tells this to him, he grins at her and tells her maybe she's the envy of other women because of the way she looks tonight.
There is an inexplicable flutter in her chest, and she hides the burn of her cheeks behind a napkin under the guise of wiping her mouth.
His hand brushes against hers as they walk along the deserted path of the park, on the way to her apartment.
She doesn't pull away.
The constellations of Gemini and Scorpio are bright that night.
She toys with the keys as they stand on the threshold of her apartment, knowing perfectly which one she should use to open her front door but still plucking ineffectually as if uncertain. (Maybe she is---)
He coughs and runs a hand through his hair, before bidding goodbye, and she nods, he nods, it's the culmination of their interaction and he's leaving. She watches him until he rounds the corner and disappears, pretending this doesn't bother her at all, it doesn't matter, she's not the kind of person people take out on dinners anyway--
Then there's a hand on her shoulder and he's turning her around, cupping her cheek with a warm, warm, warm palm before he leans down and kisses her.
She drops her keys, but that's because her fingers are curled into the fabric of his suit jacket.
Fandom: Crossroads
Characters: Muramatsu Ace, Yomohiro Tomoe | Ace/Tomoe
Word Count: ~474
Rating: K
Warning/s: None
Summary: They talk about tea, of all things. | Ace, Tomoe and the long overdue first date
Disclaimer: Crossroads is the brainchild of the wonderful mods over at I:U. Ace is the original character of the wonderful Drinn. I'm just playing in their sandbox, yo.
Notes: I had to write this, because of all the heartbreak warfare happening to Acetome in canon. Huhu my writing is disjointed and stuff because my literary juice has dried up, but here bb, the other lifetime she made him stay. Of course, sorry for any lambasting of characterizations.
It's the third week of classes before she recognizes him seated near the back row of the room, and maybe it's because he isn't wearing his shades or because his hair is styled quite differently, or that she sits near the board and devotes her attention whole-heartedly to the lectures that it takes this long before he's registered in her radar.
It's in the middle of a discussion about solenoids and magnets, and the professor calls out a name that has her looking around so fast but
he gets it right just as she turns around fully to look, and his gaze sweeps over to her, meeting her eyes.
At the end of the lecture, She packs her things for the next class; she's being neat, not dawdling.
He approaches her with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his jeans.
They talk about tea.
Of all things.
When the conversation comes to a lull, he asks her to dinner, for old times' sake.
For once, she accepts.
(The surprise washes across his face and she hides her smile behind the back of her palm.)
He's a gentleman the entire night, taking her to a fancy restaurant, opening doors and pulling chairs for her. He's witty and funny, dressed up in a suit with the top buttons undone, and she doesn't doubt that as soon as she steps out of his car and joins him, she becomes the envy of the other women.
When she tells this to him, he grins at her and tells her maybe she's the envy of other women because of the way she looks tonight.
There is an inexplicable flutter in her chest, and she hides the burn of her cheeks behind a napkin under the guise of wiping her mouth.
His hand brushes against hers as they walk along the deserted path of the park, on the way to her apartment.
She doesn't pull away.
The constellations of Gemini and Scorpio are bright that night.
She toys with the keys as they stand on the threshold of her apartment, knowing perfectly which one she should use to open her front door but still plucking ineffectually as if uncertain. (Maybe she is---)
He coughs and runs a hand through his hair, before bidding goodbye, and she nods, he nods, it's the culmination of their interaction and he's leaving. She watches him until he rounds the corner and disappears, pretending this doesn't bother her at all, it doesn't matter, she's not the kind of person people take out on dinners anyway--
Then there's a hand on her shoulder and he's turning her around, cupping her cheek with a warm, warm, warm palm before he leans down and kisses her.
She drops her keys, but that's because her fingers are curled into the fabric of his suit jacket.