[for Jayden] cara mio addio

[lowtohigh]

She wakes up most mornings fully convinced of the fact that she's done with silly, stupid mistakes. She ends a statistically significant number of days having managed to maintain that in the most important arenas.

But it's not every day.

And it's certainly not every night. There are still nights when the idea of sitting at home and doing work drives her up a wall--when the idea of going to see her brother for a 'classy' evening of wasting money on something 'useful' like the arts feels just as terrible as sitting home alone. There are nights when she asks the driver to wait around the corner and pretend he doesn't know where she's going so she can actually breathe deep something other than the rigidity of the life she's been building since Elisha returned and got her back on track.

There can't be anything so wrong with it, surely. It rarely, if ever, bleeds back over into her days. She always drags herself out of bed in the morning, whether she'd fallen into it at 10pm or 4am the night before. She always sits through classes and shows up for work with the same fierce, determined smile. She barely ever thinks of what might have happened the night before once she's got herself set for forward motion again.

Admittedly, sometimes she gets texts at work from numbers she definitely hadn't gotten at the university or the lab or any of her brother's little get-togethers. Jayden's number certainly didn't come from any vetted point of contact. It surprises her, really, how easy it is to extend something of her daytime self to a nighttime number. It's not a line she's really ever blurred before.

But he's coming to the aquarium. She's invited him. Almost like sleepwalking, she's explained to her supervisor that she wants a floor shift out in the actual building rather than holed away doing research. Idly scanning the crowd at the building's tall cement entrance, she wonders vaguely if she's even recognizable like this--flat shoes, hair tied tightly back, barely a stitch of makeup on and her wits obviously about her.

It's entirely possible he'll just walk straight past her. There are large signs for the penguins near the door, after all.

Comments

[lowtohigh]

Boo. [Not that she isn't grinning and squeezing his hand a little tighter.] Come on. Hit me with your best shot.

[The date is already on; why not let the terrible pickup lines that won't get to be used properly run free?]

[immigrantpunk]

[His eyebrows go skyward again.]

With what? A bad pickup line? [Uhhh....] If I said I liked your body, would you hold it against me?

[Any decent delivery is completely undermined by the fact that he can't stop laughing as he says it.]

[lowtohigh]

[It's understandable. It's hard to tell if she's laughing at the words or the fact he can't seem to stop laughing at himself.]

How often does that one work?

[immigrantpunk]

I don't know, I've never tried it. I'm gonna go with probably never.

[lowtohigh]

You'd be a terrible scientist. Trying things you're pretty sure will fail is-- at least 25% of the fun of life. [There's a slight shiver up her spine, but she ignores it in favour of elbowing his ribs.] And 'Heisenberg was wrong.' That's worked on me before.

[immigrantpunk]

I know, but there's taking chances and then there's probably getting slapped.

[His mom raised him to treat girls better than that, okay. When she elbows him he laughs, trying to slip his arm around her waist and pull her a bit closer. Body heat will surely keep her warm.]

Oh yeah?

[He's missing the reference, but he's a little preoccupied by the thought of what happens when pickup lines work.]

[lowtohigh]

[It's not the smoothest thing in the universe, perhaps, but she'll roll with it. He is warmer than the air around her, after all; and it's rarely a terrible idea to appear affiliated before walking into a club.]

Yeah. I mean, good or bad? I think they're really all about the delivery.

[immigrantpunk]

[He's not as experienced with this as he'd like to appear, but so far that hasn't deterred her. He just hopes he's getting points for eagerness.]

So what's the best kind of delivery? Probably not laughing, huh?

[lowtohigh]

I mean, probably. But with a sense of humour to it, you know? [Take notes, Jayden.] Like you know it's bad, but you're determined to give it a whirl.

[immigrantpunk]

[Oh, he is taking notes. He is taking all the notes. He forces himself to regain his composure, and gives her a deep, soulful look. With the barest hint of a smirk and a good-natured tone, he tries again.]

Hey, if I said I liked your body, would you hold it against me?

[lowtohigh]

[Oh. Well. That's nice, isn't it.

It's absolutely got an amused spark in her eyes, at least, as she bumps her hip against his.] Better. Practice in the mirror, nerd.

[immigrantpunk]

Awww.

[He was having a hard time keeping a straight face anyway. He shakes his head, his hand creeping up to her shoulder.]

You mean I can't just rely on honesty and my dumb sense of humor?

[lowtohigh]

[She won't swat him away from the touch. That's surely points in favour of terrible pickup lines.]

Nah. That's how you keep a girl. Getting a girl requires more posturing.

[immigrantpunk]

Oh, well, okay then. I'm learning a lot tonight.

[He throws her another smirk, and turns a corner, bringing them to the line for the club. He squints and tries to see to the front door.]

I can't tell if it's the same bouncer, can you?

[lowtohigh]

[Her attention can't be lifted to see. There's simply a noncommittal noise on her throat as she briefly ducks her attention to herself again. Lipstick appears seemingly from nowhere to be fixed on her lips. Her skirt needs to be shimmied up slightly and her shirt needs to be nudged down a bit.]

Just keep your head down either way.

[immigrantpunk]

[Jayden's attention is definitely more on her than anything else right now.]

Okay.

[lowtohigh]

[That's probably for the best. It'll keep his eyes pointed toward the ground.

And it won't distract so much when they do reach the bouncer, whose attention will also be more on Eileen than on the possibility of their IDs being fake.

Who wants to keep these obvious adults from dancing?]

[immigrantpunk]

[Lalallalala nothing to see here, his name is absolutely Vladimir Karashenko, and he will affect the accent and pretend to barely speak English to prove it.

And it looks like he has to, because he doesn't have the goods she does. He laughs and shrugs helplessly when the bouncer raises an eyebrow, looking between him and his ID.]

I go to club now?

[The bouncer gives him another skeptical look and then waves him through. He hurries after Eileen, trying not to laugh.]

[lowtohigh]

[She's always had relative ease with this. She's got to say, though, that she's fairly impressed with the amount of ease Jayden seems to have with it.

He's absolutely getting a smack of a lipsticky kiss to his cheek when he catches up to her, approval in the arch of her brows.]

You're not half bad at that.

[immigrantpunk]

[He shrugs, a little pleased with himself, and very pleased in the lipstick kiss.]

I hear a lot of broken English. Drinks?

[lowtohigh]

On me, as promised. [Which means she clearly has to tangle her fingers back with his again to drag him through the crowd to the bar.] It's my brother's card; go nuts.

[immigrantpunk]

[His eyebrows shoot up, but he allows her to pull him through the crowd.]

You sure he won't mind?

[lowtohigh]

Honestly, if you drink enough to make a dent he'll notice? I'll personally pay for your medical bills.

[Which comes with just the tiniest bit of a frown for a half a second. It might be nice if multiple drinks at a less than reputable club while she's underage pinged more interest from her brother.

But as problems go, she's pretty sure it's not the worst problem to have.] Seriously. Whatever you want.

[immigrantpunk]

[Huh.]

Your brother must have a good job.

[He's jealous.]

Well, what do you want? You wanna take it slow or fast?

[Speaking of suggestive lines. The corner of his mouth slides upward into a smirk as he asks.]

[lowtohigh]

[Clearly the perks of dating the independently mega-wealthy.

Although clearly the disadvantage of dating an older woman is the roll of her eyes at the actual question.] Manhattan. Wherever that fits on your speed scale.