(no subject)

[tragic_mask]

They are outside the Blue Owl Bar. It's mid-morning, so there are cars rushing [so to speak] by, and people walking, biking, or rollerblading down the sidewalk nearby.

"Well, here we are,"  she says brightly, ponytail ruffled by a light breeze.

Comments

[mechanicalswans]

"The trick is to find someone whose quirks don't annoy you. Or at least, not unbearably so."

[tragic_mask]

"Yes, that is a good trick," she agrees.

[mechanicalswans]

"I dated a girl for a while, in college, who... she was sweet, and certainly attractive, but she told the same stories over and over. She had maybe four stories that were interesting, so if a subject came anywhere near one of them she would twist it just so she could retell those stories. We'd heard all of them so many times. But she liked the spotlight, and she was going to tell those stories no matter what. It didn't work out."

[tragic_mask]

"Ouch." She shakes her head. "I think I have at least seven stories I could tell. So, I have her beat."

[mechanicalswans]

"I've never heard you repeat one," he says, "and yours are much more interesting, anyway. I think it would take me a very long time to get tired of them. If ever."

[tragic_mask]

"'Ever' is a long, long time." She smiles, and settles back into a pillow.

[mechanicalswans]

"You'd get tired of me long before then," he says with a faint smile. "The things that seem charming and romantic now may one day make you feel trapped. I can be a bit... intense, especially when there isn't much work to be done, and you're the focus of all my attention."

On the one hand, he likes that their play-acting gives him something to hide behind, but on the other... it makes it harder for him to know.

[tragic_mask]

She looks at him, uncomfortable, divulging.

"I suppose we'll find out. I've never been the one who felt the need to leave." She stops there, before it becomes a self-pitying rant.

[mechanicalswans]

"Well, there's--" he begins, but stops when he hears a knock at the door. "There's dinner, I would say."

He rolls off the bed and heads for the door, taking his wallet out.

[tragic_mask]

She waits on the bed, quietly, as the smell of pizza wafts in through the door.

[mechanicalswans]

He pays the deliveryman and takes the food, closing and locking the door again before carrying the pizza box and the cans of soda over to the bed.

"This may get a little messy," he says, "but eating on the bedspread keeps crumbs out of the sheets, anyway."

[tragic_mask]

"Are you a messy eater?" she asks, relaxing out of her hunched-up position. "Or are you just one of those overenthusiastic soda-can openers?"

[mechanicalswans]

"There are always crumbs with pizza," he says, "and we don't have plates, though we can eat over the box. I was a Boy Scout, remember--it helps to be prepared."

[tragic_mask]

"Mhm," she says, quirking a brow and popping the box open.

[mechanicalswans]

He opens a can of soda, settling in beside her again.

"We didn't have pizza very often, though," he says. "Our being prepared was more things like having first aid kits on hand for when we cooked things over a campfire."

[tragic_mask]

"Ooh, sounds very..." she searches for the right word while taking a piece of pizza. "Earthy."

[mechanicalswans]

"Baked potatoes can explode, if you're not careful with them," he says, taking a piece himself. "And boys are very impatient when it comes to food, so there was a lot of finger-burning."

[tragic_mask]

"I can imagine," she says.

[mechanicalswans]

He takes a bite of the pizza, closing his eyes to savor it.

"You know, I tend to associate good pizza with Chicago or New York, but this is good. And that 'fresh mozzarella' bit was true."

[tragic_mask]

"Was it?" she says, taking a bite. "I suppose I should be more of a connoisseur than I am, particularly since my main purpose in food is enjoyment."

[mechanicalswans]

"I'm a connoisseur of takeout," he says with a smile. "Especially pizza. For a long time back home, the only takeout you could really get was pizza or Chinese."

[tragic_mask]

"Well, I'm glad you know what you're doing, anyway," she says, scooting closer to him. "There's something comforting about eating pizza with someone who knows what he's talking about."

[mechanicalswans]

"It's best to have trained professionals on hand," he says with a chuckle, leaning against her. "Just imagine the pizza accidents and mayhem that could break out otherwise."

[tragic_mask]

"True..." she murmurs, closing her eyes to savor the piece. "All kinds of horrific things could happen, when you're not sure whether the mozzarella is fresh."

[mechanicalswans]

"I saw a pizza accident in St. Paul once," he says. "It took them three weeks to clean it all up. All because of the wrong kind of tomato."