Fic: Interludes (18/18)
Title: Interludes
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: character spoiler for 3x15
Warnings: implied abuse, bullying
Word Count: ~2560
Summary: Blaine has spent most of his life feeling like the only thing people notice about him is that he stutters. He’s working hard to overcome his (mostly self created) roadblocks when he meets Kurt in an online class the summer after his freshman year of college.
Author's Note:
This is the last chapter of Interludes, but I’m working on a sequel called Overtures. I’ll be tagging it “overtures” here and “overtures fic” over on tumblr, in case you’re interested. (Turns out people are actually discussing real overtures in the overtures tag on tumblr.) So if you have tumblr and you’re not already following me, come say hi if you want!
I’m hoping to have the first chapter of Overtures up in about two weeks. Until then, I’ll be posting some of the Interludes extras on tumblr, like my Matt backstory that’s already up! And I’m totally open to requests, if you guys want some short scenes. I’m going to write up Blaine coming out to Cooper and maybe a little something about Blaine helping Matt woo Kerry.
Now without further ado... Chapter 18. (EEEEEEEE! I hope you guys like it!)
Kurt wonders if he should be doing something differently. As they were leaving the coffee shop, Blaine seemed to close himself off. He withdrew his hand from Kurt and shoved both of his deep into his pockets. Kurt tries to make small talk on their way to find someplace to eat, but Blaine just smiles and nods and chuckles here and there. Luckily they find a mostly empty diner a few blocks away and Kurt doesn’t have to keep up the awkward, one-sided small talk.
When they’re seated, again Kurt tries to engage Blaine, talking a little bit about the seminar he’s taking this semester, the lack of intelligence in it. Blaine smiles and nods, but still isn’t saying anything. The waitress comes to take their order and Kurt gets a cheeseburger. Blaine speaks for the first time in what seems like hours, even though it’s probably only been about 20 minutes. He looks at the waitress and then at Kurt and then back down at the table and simply says, “Um... sssssame.” They sit in silence for another minute after that and Kurt can’t really take it anymore.
“Blaine, do you want to be here? You don’t have to be here. Don’t feel like I’m making you stay. I just thought maybe we could talk, but you don’t have to be here. You don’t...” Kurt trails off, not knowing what to say really.
Blaine flicks his eyes to Kurt and then trains them on the corner of the paper placemat that he’s been folding and unfolding. He takes a breath and gestures towards his mouth, “Not rah-rah-rah-really wwwwwworking rrrr- rrrr- rah-right now.” And he smiles, ruefully, finally just ripping the corner off of the placemat, in what Kurt can see is clearly a moment of frustration.
Kurt nods. Blaine thinks about saying more, struggling to find some words that might actually be useful, that might actually tell Kurt something, that might actually make it out of his mouth. He really does want to be here, but apparently his voice has other plans.
Kurt rifles through his bag and comes up with a pen and a notebook. He scribbles a quick sentence.
Would this be better?
You don’t have to do this.
Maybe it’ll be easier for both of us.
This is humiliating.
It’s ok. I really don’t mind. I’m just worried about something.
You’re worried? About what?
I’m worried that you don’t trust me enough. To talk to me, to speak. Like you think that I’m going to laugh or whatever, like other people do. I already know a lot about you and I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re probably one of the most intelligent and talented people I’ve ever met.
Seriously??!! I don’t even know what to say/write. I’m not worried about that, this is just me having trouble talking. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be ok. But thanks. For the compliments. cough-LIES-cough
Ok, relieved, but I’m not lying. So... what’s up?
All I keep thinking about is earlier when you asked if we could go somewhere to talk, I wanted to say so many things to you. I said barely a tiny percentage of what I was thinking.
Well now I’m desperately curious. Care to share what you wanted you to say?
What I wanted to say: “Oh, man, I am STARVING. I haven’t eaten all day, I was too nervous. I have so much I want to tell you about! Like about what happened with my dad and how excited I am to finally, actually, really meet you and how hard I worked on that song. I’m so embarrassed about the letter, but I’m really glad you liked it. It wasn’t really brave though, brave would have been telling you everything sooner. I should have told you the truth a hundred years ago and I can’t believe you still even want to hang out with me. I can’t believe you forgive me.” (That’s not even all of it. There’s more, but I think you get the gist.)
What I actually said: “I could eat. And talk.”
And apparently I lied about the second part.
“Wow,” Kurt says out loud.
“I know! I, I, I, I, have a lot to ssssssssay. Bah-bah-bah-but, st-st-stuck.” Blaine says with a shake of his head, eyes bright and finally engaged.
Their food gets served then and they stop talking for a moment. But Kurt starts scribbling again as soon as their waitress walks away.
Is there anything I can do? To help? To make it easier?
No way! You’re great. I just … can’t make my mouth move right now. I mean, I’m nervous about stuttering or screwing up and saying dumb or dorky stuff, but mostly I’m having some trouble like physically speaking. I’m really embarrassed and this is sort of what happens when I … feel too much. Like any time I’m overly emotional. Talking is useless. I’m also really happy, but I hope that’s not my problem. It would be awful if “too happy = inability to speak.” I’m not usually this bad. I guess that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Usually I can string sentences together.
That would be a downright shame if “too happy = inability to speak.” I just wish I could help you out somehow. I was really worried about you Blaine. Like really worried. When you didn’t get back to me, I thought something bad happened. I don’t know what, but just … bad. But I get it, why you were, and maybe are, hesitant, you didn’t/don’t have to be though. I can be a nice person.
I’m sorry I made you worry, I wasn’t really thinking about how you were feeling. (I’m such an asshole like that!!) And haven’t we been over this? Of course you’re nice, you’re downright ineffable. So great, I can’t even talk about you. Or to you.
Blaine, it’s fine. You’re winsome remember?
Yeah. Right. In my dreams maybe. You shouldn’t have to constantly reassure me. I’m not really worth it. I’m so sorry that I’m acting like this. I should be able to function as a human being. I just hate that I’m like this. Now I feel stupid and guilty and even more embarrassed for writing out my pity party.
Please don’t. Please don’t hate yourself, or anything about yourself. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t worth it. Have you noticed Crazy Hair at the next table? She keeps giving us the stink eye.
Are you trying to diffuse my frustration/shyness/mortal embarrassment by snarking on a stranger? Cause that works for me. I happen to have a soft spot for snark. (I’m sorry. For being such a weirdo. And I’m sorry that I’m sorry.)
You saw right through my plan. And seriously, it’s like “honey, get a deep conditioner and a new stylist.” But why is she looking at us like that?!?!? (END YOUR VICIOUS CYCLE OF APOLOGY.)
I think that’s just how she looks. Either that or she’s never seen two guys in a diner passing a notebook back and forth like they’re in fucking 6th grade study hall. Get a good look sweetheart!!!
She saw us staring.
Be cool Kurt. Don’t look directly at her.
Oh, bugger off Crazy Hair.
Abrupt subject change.
I have to admit, now that I know who you are, I’m kind of surprised that you didn’t know who I was after I sent you that version of the tuna salad song. Unless, you just didn’t remember me/it.
It was familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. And I don’t think I could wrap my head around the guy on the internet being the guy from the coffee shop.
Yeah. I was definitely having the same issues.
There were a ton of moments all summer that I honestly thought it might be you. (I thought of you as The Silent Stranger.) But I just thought that would be far too great a coincidence.
I’m surprised you remembered me. (I called you The Face.)
Of course, you make an impression. (The face? seriously?)
I didn’t think you noticed me. I didn’t even talk to you. (I like your face.)
Talking isn’t always the most important thing. For starters, has anyone ever told you that you have a very nice ass? (I like your ass.)
No actually. No one has ever told me that before.
You do.
Thanks. It’s probably all the running?
And when you play music, you’re captivating. Also, I don’t think anyone had ever saluted me before. So, I didn’t just like you for your ass.
Where’s that blushing font when I need it...
I fucking love it when you blush.
This works in my favor.
What I still can’t figure out is how Rachel and Matt didn’t put the pieces together for us. They were always flirting.
I don’t know, Matt’s a good friend, but he pretty consistently has his head up his ass.
As does Rachel, now that I think of it.
Maybe it was better this way.
I wish you could have talked to me about other stuff this summer. You were dealing with dumb shit and maybe I could have helped.
What like you could have flown to Ohio and beaten up the camp counselor that made fun of me?
I would have done that. I plan to learn to some type of very intimidating fighting style and then I’m going to beat that guy up.
And I appreciate that. But I think they were my battles to fight this summer. I think I’m a better person for it.
I wonder though, what might have happened if I had cornered you after you played Pale Blue Eyes, like I wanted to. If stupid Rachel hadn’t dragged me away.
I probably would have been totally silent and smiled a lot and shrugged and run away.
But whyyyyy? I mean, why sing that song right to me and have no intention to talk to me after?
I guess I never thought you’d really pay attention to it. Or maybe I even hoped you wouldn’t be there that night. It was as much for me as it was for you. I never really thought about what might happen after. I guess I figured you’d leave and I’d leave and I’d just spend the summer thinking about you and hoping I’d see you again someday.
Yeah, but what if...
Are we playing that game?
YES. What if I had decided to not take that class?
What if I had decided against posting my levelheaded comment?
What if I detested levelheadedness????
What if I had thrown up on you in the basement?
Ew. Thanks for not.
It was one of my options. I was like “Ok, your options are throw up, run away, try to talk.” It really seemed like the best way to get your attention.
But you already had my attention.
To be fair, I didn’t know I had your attention. And it might not have been a well thought out plan, but vomiting on someone is construed as a sign of affection in some cultures.
Except that it’s not.
No. It’s not. I tell you lies.
I have a question. It’s been KILLING me. What were you going to write at the end of the letter? You said you would “need time, but...”
I have no idea. I rewrote that thing so many times, I’m not even sure what version you got. I mean, they all had the same theme “I stutter, I’m not very cool, please don’t hate me, I’m dumb, you’re smart, I miss you, seriously try not to hate me, I’m sorry.”
Yeah that’s pretty much what I got out of it. Also that you’re kind of amazing.
I’m scoffing at the mere thought of being amazing. I’m so far from amazing Kurt, I don’t think I could identify it. But thank you. And I guess, at the end of the letter I was just saying I hope we could be friends.
Would you be interested in being more than friends someday? maybe?
When Blaine reads that, he actually laughs loudly. The laughter seems to jar something loose in his chest and his jaw and his tongue. The worst of his block is suddenly gone, so he says “Why ww-would you wwwant to get involved with this mah-mah-mess?” And he uses his finger to draw a circle in the air around his face.
“Everyone’s a mess Blaine. Your mess is just harder to hide.”
Blaine smiles at this and thinks that he should start keeping a notebook of Kurt Hummel’s most inspirational quotes. Maybe now is as good a time as any to start. He turns to a new page in the notebook and writes:
1. I won’t think of them as blocks. I’ll think of them as interludes.
2. You were incredible.
3. Everyone’s a mess. Your mess is just harder to hide.
“What are you doing?” Kurt asks.
“May-making a lllist of the nnnnice things you ssssay to mah-mah-me.” With that Blaine tears the page out of the notebook and folds it up to keep in his wallet.
The boys have finished eating and Blaine pays the check by beating Kurt’s hand away and giving him a warning look.
“Thank you,” Kurt says, “You really didn’t have to pay.” Blaine just shrugs and smiles.
As they walk out of the diner Kurt says “I’d like to do this again sometime, okay?”
“You ww-wah-want to write notes to mah-mah-me in a dddd-diner for a couple hours again ssssometime?” Blaine jokes.
“It was fun. Didn’t you have fun? Stop laughing at me.” Kurt glances over his shoulder, “I really should have given Crazy Hair a recommendation for better product.”
“May-may-maybe next time.”
As they step onto the street, both boys stop for a second. Blaine takes this moment to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans and then timidly takes Kurt’s hand. At this moment, it’s somehow both the most and the least that Blaine can do.
Kurt smiles at Blaine, gives their hands a swing between them and walks on.
~~~~~
A moment of “Crazy Hair”
What are those two doing over there?
All I hear is the slide of a notebook across the table.
And then giggles.
It’s sort of annoying.
I mean, if you’re on a date, why not talk?
Why are they looking at me like that?
They’re kind of adorable though.
It’s like the can’t stop smiling.
They’re very, very cute.
I hope they kiss.
I don’t think they’re going to kiss.
Must be a first date.
A very weird first date.
Why can’t I find a guy who looks at me like that?
That’s it, Deirdre Marshall, you need a boyfriend.
Onward! To the sequel!
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: character spoiler for 3x15
Warnings: implied abuse, bullying
Word Count: ~2560
Summary: Blaine has spent most of his life feeling like the only thing people notice about him is that he stutters. He’s working hard to overcome his (mostly self created) roadblocks when he meets Kurt in an online class the summer after his freshman year of college.
Author's Note:
This is the last chapter of Interludes, but I’m working on a sequel called Overtures. I’ll be tagging it “overtures” here and “overtures fic” over on tumblr, in case you’re interested. (Turns out people are actually discussing real overtures in the overtures tag on tumblr.) So if you have tumblr and you’re not already following me, come say hi if you want!
I’m hoping to have the first chapter of Overtures up in about two weeks. Until then, I’ll be posting some of the Interludes extras on tumblr, like my Matt backstory that’s already up! And I’m totally open to requests, if you guys want some short scenes. I’m going to write up Blaine coming out to Cooper and maybe a little something about Blaine helping Matt woo Kerry.
Now without further ado... Chapter 18. (EEEEEEEE! I hope you guys like it!)
Kurt wonders if he should be doing something differently. As they were leaving the coffee shop, Blaine seemed to close himself off. He withdrew his hand from Kurt and shoved both of his deep into his pockets. Kurt tries to make small talk on their way to find someplace to eat, but Blaine just smiles and nods and chuckles here and there. Luckily they find a mostly empty diner a few blocks away and Kurt doesn’t have to keep up the awkward, one-sided small talk.
When they’re seated, again Kurt tries to engage Blaine, talking a little bit about the seminar he’s taking this semester, the lack of intelligence in it. Blaine smiles and nods, but still isn’t saying anything. The waitress comes to take their order and Kurt gets a cheeseburger. Blaine speaks for the first time in what seems like hours, even though it’s probably only been about 20 minutes. He looks at the waitress and then at Kurt and then back down at the table and simply says, “Um... sssssame.” They sit in silence for another minute after that and Kurt can’t really take it anymore.
“Blaine, do you want to be here? You don’t have to be here. Don’t feel like I’m making you stay. I just thought maybe we could talk, but you don’t have to be here. You don’t...” Kurt trails off, not knowing what to say really.
Blaine flicks his eyes to Kurt and then trains them on the corner of the paper placemat that he’s been folding and unfolding. He takes a breath and gestures towards his mouth, “Not rah-rah-rah-really wwwwwworking rrrr- rrrr- rah-right now.” And he smiles, ruefully, finally just ripping the corner off of the placemat, in what Kurt can see is clearly a moment of frustration.
Kurt nods. Blaine thinks about saying more, struggling to find some words that might actually be useful, that might actually tell Kurt something, that might actually make it out of his mouth. He really does want to be here, but apparently his voice has other plans.
Kurt rifles through his bag and comes up with a pen and a notebook. He scribbles a quick sentence.
Would this be better?
You don’t have to do this.
Maybe it’ll be easier for both of us.
This is humiliating.
It’s ok. I really don’t mind. I’m just worried about something.
You’re worried? About what?
I’m worried that you don’t trust me enough. To talk to me, to speak. Like you think that I’m going to laugh or whatever, like other people do. I already know a lot about you and I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re probably one of the most intelligent and talented people I’ve ever met.
Seriously??!! I don’t even know what to say/write. I’m not worried about that, this is just me having trouble talking. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be ok. But thanks. For the compliments. cough-LIES-cough
Ok, relieved, but I’m not lying. So... what’s up?
All I keep thinking about is earlier when you asked if we could go somewhere to talk, I wanted to say so many things to you. I said barely a tiny percentage of what I was thinking.
Well now I’m desperately curious. Care to share what you wanted you to say?
What I wanted to say: “Oh, man, I am STARVING. I haven’t eaten all day, I was too nervous. I have so much I want to tell you about! Like about what happened with my dad and how excited I am to finally, actually, really meet you and how hard I worked on that song. I’m so embarrassed about the letter, but I’m really glad you liked it. It wasn’t really brave though, brave would have been telling you everything sooner. I should have told you the truth a hundred years ago and I can’t believe you still even want to hang out with me. I can’t believe you forgive me.” (That’s not even all of it. There’s more, but I think you get the gist.)
What I actually said: “I could eat. And talk.”
And apparently I lied about the second part.
“Wow,” Kurt says out loud.
“I know! I, I, I, I, have a lot to ssssssssay. Bah-bah-bah-but, st-st-stuck.” Blaine says with a shake of his head, eyes bright and finally engaged.
Their food gets served then and they stop talking for a moment. But Kurt starts scribbling again as soon as their waitress walks away.
Is there anything I can do? To help? To make it easier?
No way! You’re great. I just … can’t make my mouth move right now. I mean, I’m nervous about stuttering or screwing up and saying dumb or dorky stuff, but mostly I’m having some trouble like physically speaking. I’m really embarrassed and this is sort of what happens when I … feel too much. Like any time I’m overly emotional. Talking is useless. I’m also really happy, but I hope that’s not my problem. It would be awful if “too happy = inability to speak.” I’m not usually this bad. I guess that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Usually I can string sentences together.
That would be a downright shame if “too happy = inability to speak.” I just wish I could help you out somehow. I was really worried about you Blaine. Like really worried. When you didn’t get back to me, I thought something bad happened. I don’t know what, but just … bad. But I get it, why you were, and maybe are, hesitant, you didn’t/don’t have to be though. I can be a nice person.
I’m sorry I made you worry, I wasn’t really thinking about how you were feeling. (I’m such an asshole like that!!) And haven’t we been over this? Of course you’re nice, you’re downright ineffable. So great, I can’t even talk about you. Or to you.
Blaine, it’s fine. You’re winsome remember?
Yeah. Right. In my dreams maybe. You shouldn’t have to constantly reassure me. I’m not really worth it. I’m so sorry that I’m acting like this. I should be able to function as a human being. I just hate that I’m like this. Now I feel stupid and guilty and even more embarrassed for writing out my pity party.
Please don’t. Please don’t hate yourself, or anything about yourself. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t worth it. Have you noticed Crazy Hair at the next table? She keeps giving us the stink eye.
Are you trying to diffuse my frustration/shyness/mortal embarrassment by snarking on a stranger? Cause that works for me. I happen to have a soft spot for snark. (I’m sorry. For being such a weirdo. And I’m sorry that I’m sorry.)
You saw right through my plan. And seriously, it’s like “honey, get a deep conditioner and a new stylist.” But why is she looking at us like that?!?!? (END YOUR VICIOUS CYCLE OF APOLOGY.)
I think that’s just how she looks. Either that or she’s never seen two guys in a diner passing a notebook back and forth like they’re in fucking 6th grade study hall. Get a good look sweetheart!!!
She saw us staring.
Be cool Kurt. Don’t look directly at her.
Oh, bugger off Crazy Hair.
Abrupt subject change.
I have to admit, now that I know who you are, I’m kind of surprised that you didn’t know who I was after I sent you that version of the tuna salad song. Unless, you just didn’t remember me/it.
It was familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. And I don’t think I could wrap my head around the guy on the internet being the guy from the coffee shop.
Yeah. I was definitely having the same issues.
There were a ton of moments all summer that I honestly thought it might be you. (I thought of you as The Silent Stranger.) But I just thought that would be far too great a coincidence.
I’m surprised you remembered me. (I called you The Face.)
Of course, you make an impression. (The face? seriously?)
I didn’t think you noticed me. I didn’t even talk to you. (I like your face.)
Talking isn’t always the most important thing. For starters, has anyone ever told you that you have a very nice ass? (I like your ass.)
No actually. No one has ever told me that before.
You do.
Thanks. It’s probably all the running?
And when you play music, you’re captivating. Also, I don’t think anyone had ever saluted me before. So, I didn’t just like you for your ass.
Where’s that blushing font when I need it...
I fucking love it when you blush.
This works in my favor.
What I still can’t figure out is how Rachel and Matt didn’t put the pieces together for us. They were always flirting.
I don’t know, Matt’s a good friend, but he pretty consistently has his head up his ass.
As does Rachel, now that I think of it.
Maybe it was better this way.
I wish you could have talked to me about other stuff this summer. You were dealing with dumb shit and maybe I could have helped.
What like you could have flown to Ohio and beaten up the camp counselor that made fun of me?
I would have done that. I plan to learn to some type of very intimidating fighting style and then I’m going to beat that guy up.
And I appreciate that. But I think they were my battles to fight this summer. I think I’m a better person for it.
I wonder though, what might have happened if I had cornered you after you played Pale Blue Eyes, like I wanted to. If stupid Rachel hadn’t dragged me away.
I probably would have been totally silent and smiled a lot and shrugged and run away.
But whyyyyy? I mean, why sing that song right to me and have no intention to talk to me after?
I guess I never thought you’d really pay attention to it. Or maybe I even hoped you wouldn’t be there that night. It was as much for me as it was for you. I never really thought about what might happen after. I guess I figured you’d leave and I’d leave and I’d just spend the summer thinking about you and hoping I’d see you again someday.
Yeah, but what if...
Are we playing that game?
YES. What if I had decided to not take that class?
What if I had decided against posting my levelheaded comment?
What if I detested levelheadedness????
What if I had thrown up on you in the basement?
Ew. Thanks for not.
It was one of my options. I was like “Ok, your options are throw up, run away, try to talk.” It really seemed like the best way to get your attention.
But you already had my attention.
To be fair, I didn’t know I had your attention. And it might not have been a well thought out plan, but vomiting on someone is construed as a sign of affection in some cultures.
Except that it’s not.
No. It’s not. I tell you lies.
I have a question. It’s been KILLING me. What were you going to write at the end of the letter? You said you would “need time, but...”
I have no idea. I rewrote that thing so many times, I’m not even sure what version you got. I mean, they all had the same theme “I stutter, I’m not very cool, please don’t hate me, I’m dumb, you’re smart, I miss you, seriously try not to hate me, I’m sorry.”
Yeah that’s pretty much what I got out of it. Also that you’re kind of amazing.
I’m scoffing at the mere thought of being amazing. I’m so far from amazing Kurt, I don’t think I could identify it. But thank you. And I guess, at the end of the letter I was just saying I hope we could be friends.
Would you be interested in being more than friends someday? maybe?
When Blaine reads that, he actually laughs loudly. The laughter seems to jar something loose in his chest and his jaw and his tongue. The worst of his block is suddenly gone, so he says “Why ww-would you wwwant to get involved with this mah-mah-mess?” And he uses his finger to draw a circle in the air around his face.
“Everyone’s a mess Blaine. Your mess is just harder to hide.”
Blaine smiles at this and thinks that he should start keeping a notebook of Kurt Hummel’s most inspirational quotes. Maybe now is as good a time as any to start. He turns to a new page in the notebook and writes:
1. I won’t think of them as blocks. I’ll think of them as interludes.
2. You were incredible.
3. Everyone’s a mess. Your mess is just harder to hide.
“What are you doing?” Kurt asks.
“May-making a lllist of the nnnnice things you ssssay to mah-mah-me.” With that Blaine tears the page out of the notebook and folds it up to keep in his wallet.
The boys have finished eating and Blaine pays the check by beating Kurt’s hand away and giving him a warning look.
“Thank you,” Kurt says, “You really didn’t have to pay.” Blaine just shrugs and smiles.
As they walk out of the diner Kurt says “I’d like to do this again sometime, okay?”
“You ww-wah-want to write notes to mah-mah-me in a dddd-diner for a couple hours again ssssometime?” Blaine jokes.
“It was fun. Didn’t you have fun? Stop laughing at me.” Kurt glances over his shoulder, “I really should have given Crazy Hair a recommendation for better product.”
“May-may-maybe next time.”
As they step onto the street, both boys stop for a second. Blaine takes this moment to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans and then timidly takes Kurt’s hand. At this moment, it’s somehow both the most and the least that Blaine can do.
Kurt smiles at Blaine, gives their hands a swing between them and walks on.
~~~~~
A moment of “Crazy Hair”
What are those two doing over there?
All I hear is the slide of a notebook across the table.
And then giggles.
It’s sort of annoying.
I mean, if you’re on a date, why not talk?
Why are they looking at me like that?
They’re kind of adorable though.
It’s like the can’t stop smiling.
They’re very, very cute.
I hope they kiss.
I don’t think they’re going to kiss.
Must be a first date.
A very weird first date.
Why can’t I find a guy who looks at me like that?
That’s it, Deirdre Marshall, you need a boyfriend.
Onward! To the sequel!