RP: a Simple Creature
Date: February 5, 2005
Character: Cedric Diggory
Location: RAMM in Exeter
Status: Private
Summary: Cedric is in an exceptionally chipper mood for a Monday, and reflects on the fact he isn't fond of gambling.
Completion: Complete
Cedric lived Monday in a glittering cloud. He had the means, finally, to quit his 'day job' and pursue his real interest, and he had a date with the woman he'd been dreaming about for almost two months.
Of course, he was hedging his bets. Just a little.
He'd decided not to turn in his two-weeks notice that Monday, in case Lestrange saw Cedric's proposal and completely changed his mind. Cedric didn't honestly expect that to happen, but he also wasn't a gambler by nature. He'd keep this job in Exeter until he was certain he'd get a paycheque for the other.
And he wasn't planning anything dramatic for his date. He just wanted a quiet evening with no pressure.
He'd made something of a mess of telling Hermione how he felt -- anything but smooth or suave, that -- but it had turned out all right. It had been a long time since he'd asked out a woman, and getting funding for his museum was probably what had propelled him into saying anything to her at all. Confidence in one arena and all that ... He certainly hadn't planned on it. He'd had a busy weekend, and had planned on relaxing on his Sunday off, not turning himself into an emotional pretzel.
But she'd said 'yes.' She'd also told him(/reminded him) that she wasn't the sort to say 'yes' if she meant 'no' and was just humoring him. She said she found him attractive. He couldn't second-guess that. So she didn't feel as loopy about him as he felt about her, but she also didn't have the same experience. He'd reminded himself of that later. She'd been fighting a war, not going on dates with blokes.
So they wouldn't do anything they hadn't done before. The only difference was that now she'd know when he looked at her that he wasn't just seeing a friend, even a good friend. He was seeing a little more. What she saw in return, they'd find out. If on the one hand, he wasn't too keen on being her 'test case,' they were at different places and he knew that, had known it when he'd spoken to her. He'd just had to say something finally; he'd been driving himself crazy. And was a date ever anything but a test case, even if both parties had more experience at the process? Unless one had known the other person for years and things progressed straight to bed with no dating in between -- which most relationships did not do -- there was always the possibility one would feel less, or lose interest.
His problem lay in the fact he wasn't a gambler. A certain spontenaity was fine, but he really was more like a cat. He preferred his life to be moderately planned out and orderly. When he didn't know if he were coming or going, it made him upset and nervous -- and not in a good way. People who turned their lives into a melodrama baffled him. He preferred a certain preditability, and if that made him a boring old Hufflepuff, so be it. He could get his jollies just fine from small excitements, thank you, and was rather tired of films and literature extolling the virtues of excitement and radical change. He'd actually gone through the experience of pulling his life up by the roots and transplanting himself ... and it hadn't resulted in some grand epiphany. He'd been lonely and sad and had drunk too much, and he was only now getting over it.
So he was rather looking forward to just sharing dinner and a movie -- in his own cottage -- with Hermione, and let the biggest decision of the evening be what to watch and whether it would be okay to put his arm around her on the couch. He was tired of pretending he didn't feel what he felt.
At the root of it, and despite his intellectual bent, he really was a rather simple creature. It didn't take a lot to make him happy.
Character: Cedric Diggory
Location: RAMM in Exeter
Status: Private
Summary: Cedric is in an exceptionally chipper mood for a Monday, and reflects on the fact he isn't fond of gambling.
Completion: Complete
Cedric lived Monday in a glittering cloud. He had the means, finally, to quit his 'day job' and pursue his real interest, and he had a date with the woman he'd been dreaming about for almost two months.
Of course, he was hedging his bets. Just a little.
He'd decided not to turn in his two-weeks notice that Monday, in case Lestrange saw Cedric's proposal and completely changed his mind. Cedric didn't honestly expect that to happen, but he also wasn't a gambler by nature. He'd keep this job in Exeter until he was certain he'd get a paycheque for the other.
And he wasn't planning anything dramatic for his date. He just wanted a quiet evening with no pressure.
He'd made something of a mess of telling Hermione how he felt -- anything but smooth or suave, that -- but it had turned out all right. It had been a long time since he'd asked out a woman, and getting funding for his museum was probably what had propelled him into saying anything to her at all. Confidence in one arena and all that ... He certainly hadn't planned on it. He'd had a busy weekend, and had planned on relaxing on his Sunday off, not turning himself into an emotional pretzel.
But she'd said 'yes.' She'd also told him(/reminded him) that she wasn't the sort to say 'yes' if she meant 'no' and was just humoring him. She said she found him attractive. He couldn't second-guess that. So she didn't feel as loopy about him as he felt about her, but she also didn't have the same experience. He'd reminded himself of that later. She'd been fighting a war, not going on dates with blokes.
So they wouldn't do anything they hadn't done before. The only difference was that now she'd know when he looked at her that he wasn't just seeing a friend, even a good friend. He was seeing a little more. What she saw in return, they'd find out. If on the one hand, he wasn't too keen on being her 'test case,' they were at different places and he knew that, had known it when he'd spoken to her. He'd just had to say something finally; he'd been driving himself crazy. And was a date ever anything but a test case, even if both parties had more experience at the process? Unless one had known the other person for years and things progressed straight to bed with no dating in between -- which most relationships did not do -- there was always the possibility one would feel less, or lose interest.
His problem lay in the fact he wasn't a gambler. A certain spontenaity was fine, but he really was more like a cat. He preferred his life to be moderately planned out and orderly. When he didn't know if he were coming or going, it made him upset and nervous -- and not in a good way. People who turned their lives into a melodrama baffled him. He preferred a certain preditability, and if that made him a boring old Hufflepuff, so be it. He could get his jollies just fine from small excitements, thank you, and was rather tired of films and literature extolling the virtues of excitement and radical change. He'd actually gone through the experience of pulling his life up by the roots and transplanting himself ... and it hadn't resulted in some grand epiphany. He'd been lonely and sad and had drunk too much, and he was only now getting over it.
So he was rather looking forward to just sharing dinner and a movie -- in his own cottage -- with Hermione, and let the biggest decision of the evening be what to watch and whether it would be okay to put his arm around her on the couch. He was tired of pretending he didn't feel what he felt.
At the root of it, and despite his intellectual bent, he really was a rather simple creature. It didn't take a lot to make him happy.