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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Jun 24, 2009 16:28:42 GMT -5
Finally the other woman gave up on pestering him and eventually found another partner who was probably far better suited for her. Matthew was a bit relieved, but a little part of him wished he actually knew how to dance, or that he actually could, so he could partake. But he knew what a mistake that would have been if he had swallowed his pride (and a few more beers) and actually moved to the dance floor.
He was good with saving lives, guns, playing hero, guitar... He just couldn't dance. In fact, occasionally when he was playing guitar on stage he ended up dancing and he was informed that it was utterly hillarious. But dance was something he always wished that he could do. Unfortunately he was sure that he was awful, and even with slow dancing (if he ever attempted it) he would have hurt a poor woman's feet.
Turning his back attention to Kara he was met only with empty space. Blinking he glanced toward the dance floor and there she was, dancing with some young gentleman. Matthew smiled a bit, unable to really help it, as his thoughts momentarily wandered. She was graceful and precise despite the fast beat of the song. Her dress seemed to move about just right with the breeze that she was creating around her with her every movement. She looked like an angel. He imagined that many a young man had their eyes set on her for her intelligence, her procociousness, and her loveliness.
Releasing a bit of an exhale he turned back to the bar taking a sip of his beer. Well, at least that never changed. Beer. It was always right where you left it. It didn't go running off on ya. God it tasted so good on his tongue as he finally swallowed it back.
“The local beer is that good?”
Caught in midsip he removed the bottle and looked up just in time to see that Kara had returned from her dance. "Good enough for what I'm paying." He admitted with a bit of a chuckle as he turned out to face her once again. Hey, maybe she wasn't bored with him.. Or maybe she saw him as an awful lecher and was going to report him to the police. Of course that's where his mind went even though he was only forty two.
"You're quite good out there." He commented, nodding toward the dance floor. "Though I'm sure you don't need to hear that from me." He added as an afterthought. He was fairly certain this young woman recieved compliments all of the time, so he didn't press the matter further.
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Post by Kara Barnhill on Jun 24, 2009 21:21:29 GMT -5
"Good enough for what I'm paying."
Kara nodded and laughed. "I would sure hope so. Especially if you continue to shell out for." He seemed pleasant enough. And the more time she spent in conversation with him, the more she was growing sure that he was not a threat. Leastways, not at that moment. If nothing else, she was in a crowded bar.
"You're quite good out there. Though I'm sure you don't need to hear that from me."
Kara smiled pleasantly, and tucked a stray curl behind her ear and let out a small laugh and sighed. "Thank you," she chimed. "And I don't hear it too terribly often." She laughed. "Just when some guy wants to try it as a pick-up line." If only men would quit being pigs. It would be nice to respected for the talent, of that she was certain. But to have it only used in reference to trying to get her back to their apartment, it got disheartening. Didn't feel to awful to hear it now, though. Matt seemed to not be complimenting her in an attempt to get lucky.
That, in the very least, provoked her to keep talking to him. "You know, you'll keep getting hounded to get out on the floor," she smiled in a friendly manner. It was not said in a malicious or harmful way, merely in a simple jest. She though, shifted to face him once again, and dropped the topic. Mostly because she didn't want to scare him away.
"Is coming out to a local bar something you do often?" It was gentle enough, in Kara's opinion. She didn't wish to seem too strong or ridiculous. She was, in fact, a very social person and enjoyed making new friends and acquaintances. Naturally, many people perceived this wrongly. Still, Kara didn't let that stop her. She was not about to hide herself just because a few people read her wrongly.
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Jun 25, 2009 12:50:33 GMT -5
"Just when some guy wants to try it as a pick-up line."
"Men can be like that." He nodded in agreement, looking back to his beer. He hoped that she didn't think that's why he complimented her. Not that she wasn't attractive but Matthew didn't date. He hadn't for years. He was far too busy to even consider it and he somehow doubted, even if he did have the time, that a woman would want to be with him regardless. Though he would have been a fine, loyal, and giving significant either, he had somehow convinced himself otherwise.
"I wish I could say that changes with time, but unfortunately that doesn't seem to be the case." He deducted with a one sided shrug before resting the side of his face in his hand, elbow up on the bar countertop he admired the flashing lights of the bar that shined above vodka bottles and other expensive liqour. Not his cup of tea, he had of course done it in college, but now that he was older he just couldn't do it anymore.
"You know, you'll keep getting hounded to get out on the floor," she smiled in a friendly manner.
"Yes. But what these folks don't realize is that I'm actually saving them the bruised feet and broken toes by politely resigning." Matthew offered with a little smile and a slight glint of some sort of humor in his dark eyes. He wasn't light on his feet and even something safe as a slow dance he would have been incredibly nervous about out of fear of accidentally stepping on his partner or probably even embarassing them. He wasn't sure which would be worse.
"I also doubt if I even got out there to do god knows what, that anyone would have the patience to put up with what I would put them through." He added with a bit of a nervous laugh, a light redness to his cheeks at even the thought of him tumbling over, or knocking something expensive to the ground.
"Is coming out to a local bar something you do often?"
"When I'm around, yeah, sure." He gave a nod, setting down his beer, for now forgotten. "I prefer these places to the more commercial ones. I figure they need help more than the others, then again, this place seems to be doing just fine on its own." He noted as he glanced around the business of the bar. All of the bodies dancing, chatting, and drinking. Mostly young people, meaning younger than forty two, but he wasn't complaining. As long as it was a good, fun, legal time he had no issue with it.
"These places give me time to relax because time really is fleeting these days." More so in the line of work he was involved in. At any minute you could be called in, or in the middle of a threatening situation that could end your life or someone elses. Evil didn't sleep and Matthew rarely did either.
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Post by Kara Barnhill on Jun 26, 2009 15:22:48 GMT -5
"I wish I could say that changes with time, but unfortunately that doesn't seem to be the case."
“Oh, well then.” Kara chimed with a dramatic sigh. “That seems to leave me with dreadfully poor prospects.” She grinned, despite herself, and found her pseudo-morose expression completely gone. Not that she was in any real rush to get down the aisle, but Kara had always been a rather girly-girl at heart. The prospect of getting married made her happy. But that would mean finding a man that made her happy first.
And if a man had just admitted that men were not like a wine, and did not get better with age---lets just say it seemed to dash her spirits a bit. Too bad. Instantly, though, her thoughts changed tracks, and the subject turned away from men once more.
"I also doubt if I even got out there to do god knows what, that anyone would have the patience to put up with what I would put them through."
That, much to Kara’s surprise, was quite surprising. She looked to Matt and then said, “There are always people who have enough patience. You just have to find them,” she half hummed. Instantly she felt a smile creep across her face, and her brown eyes danced with contained laughter.
“You know, I daresay that most of the people here tonight will have consumed enough alcohol to not even remember coming out this evening by the end. And I promise that I could be a patient dance partner, if you change your mind.”
It was, perhaps, the new excuse she had heard—and by all means she had thought she had heard them all—that cause Kara to counter with such an offer. She assumed he would refuse anyway, but surely it would do no harm in offering. She had taken classes. She could, if he had inquired, told many-a-story about the boys that had taken classes with two left feet, and turned out to be some of the finest in her mother’s studio.
"These places give me time to relax because time really is fleeting these days."
“Tell me about it.” Half of the time, the young woman felt a distinct urge to crawl into a small closet and never come out again. Still, it was worth it all. Wasn’t it? They were all logical. Working paid for her rent. For her classes, so the hours she was picking up were almost required. Her classes worked her hard, so she could prove herself. If she proved herself, she could make it to the FBI with very few oppositions. Or, so the woman assumed. But once that happened, her other job could be lost. And homework would be forgotten. From then on, it would be her constant work that would keep her busy. And that was the busy she was hoping to get to one day.
“It’s almost like you don’t have time to breathe. Because if you do, everything will pass you by.” Her voice got a bit light, and dreamy. As if the girl was growing a bit philosophical. Something, Kara would have to admit, happened from time to time.
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Jun 26, 2009 22:08:55 GMT -5
“You know, I daresay that most of the people here tonight will have consumed enough alcohol to not even remember coming out this evening by the end. And I promise that I could be a patient dance partner, if you change your mind.”
Now Matthew Grimaldi had stood his own ground amongst some of the most frightening and terrifying people that you could ever meet. Terrorists, killers, drug dealers, some people's worst nightmares were a part of his every day life and he never trembled or fumbled. But with the knowing little smile this woman was giving him he suddenly felt a tad nervous and felt himself straighten a bit in his bar stool, making himself swallow as he felt like a bug in a kid's jar. Yanked right out of its 'norm' and thrown into another reality.
"Ah yes, but you and I would remember and there enlies the problem." Matthew noted with a bit of a nervous chuckle, knowing full well she saw right through him. Hell, a five year old could see right through him, he wasn't exactly putting up a valiant effort. "And I'm sure you're a wonderful teacher..." He reassured, though he found his nerves which rarely made an appearance were now getting the best of him.
"But no amount of patience will heal your toes if I manage to bumble onto them, and trust me, I always do." It was true, he had a score of bad experiences dancing back in middleschool. He was always so gosh darn awkward when it came to that. The girls used to laugh at him until highschool when he got heavy into sports and grew into his looks. But their haunting laughter and whispers had always remained.
She wanted to dance with him? Why? Didn't she realize what a disaster it would be? Then again, maybe that was it entirely. Maybe she sorely needed a good laugh and this was all part of her plan. She appeared to be a very intelligent young woman. No, by looking at her he could already tell that she didn't have a vindictive bone in her body. Then what was it?
"You won't take no for an answer will you?" Yep, definitely like Tess and with a nervous laugh he felt some sort of invisible force lift him to his feet and hesitantly, his heels digging into the floor, he made his way out to the dancefloor. Slightly in front of Kara but still sticking rather close. Gosh he felt like he was in middleschool all over again.
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Post by Kara Barnhill on Jun 28, 2009 18:06:29 GMT -5
"Ah yes, but you and I would remember and there enlies the problem."
He was utterly set against getting out on the dance floor, so Kara shifted her attentions back to eyeing the dancers, though a smile still inched across her face. “The offer still stands, Agent.” That was where she was going to leave it. It was no use sending this man into a fit over something that in the long run was meaningless. Well, meaningless to many leastways. She was pretty certain she valued the art right up there with life. It would never be meaningless to her.
Still, with the subject dropped by the petite woman, the man seemed quite inclined to dwell on the subject matter himself. This amused Kara immensely, and she silently watched with laughing eyes as he weaved his own conversation about dancing. He must have been considering it, even if only a little. Otherwise? He would never have spoken so much on it.
He was trying to convince himself he was right. That he would be horrible at dancing. She would let him. He was a grown man, and could tend to and care for himself. Whether he was being irrational or not.
"You won't take no for an answer will you?"
“Never.” Kara replied, with a slow shake of her head and a playful smile. She was, however surprised when he pushed himself from the bar and moved out to the floor, and the lady followed closely behind.
“Shall we?” She murmured quietly, taking his hand into hers, and resting her other on his shoulder. “Now, if you can count to eight, you can dance.” She began with a relaxed tone. “I am assuming the government only employs people who can count at least to ten. So you’re quite safe,” she laughed lightly.
“The count for salsa is 123 567. Where four and eight are pauses and holds.” She demonstrated quickly before looking up to the man. He looked dreadfully nervous. “And relax. Nobody starts off perfect. Otherwise we would never take lessons or practice!”
"Trust me, nobody is watching. We can go at your pace."
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Jun 28, 2009 18:44:49 GMT -5
“I am assuming the government only employs people who can count at least to ten. So you’re quite safe,” she laughed lightly.
"I actually have my data analyst do most of the counting." He attempted to joke though his own nervousness at the prospect of dancing shined right through his fascade. Briefly his thoughts wandered onto Krys Robin and her reaction if he had said that to her face. She would have no doubt slung a sarcastic comment at him before giving him her usual right handed fwap of the hand against his upper arm. It didn't usually sting but when she hit the exact same spot every single time even the strong Matthew could feel it.
His own hands were warm when she took them but unlike his face they didn't take on the normal actions. They weren't trembling or even lightly shaking, if anything they just seemed hesitant with every movement they took, even when Kara was guiding them. And the strong bare of a man felt his stomach give an unfamiliar twinge that he hadn't felt since gradeschool when she placed his large hand on her hip.
His whole body, though he appeared a sluggish and very down to earth man at the bar, seemed to tense right up. Every nook and cranny of him seemed to just right out to the point where it'd be a huge battle just to simply move. Once he was out on that dance floor he was in unfamiliar territory. He could sing and play his guitar on a stage but dance, let alone in a large group of people was a nervewracking process for him.
"I uh... Heh.." He gave a nervous chuckle as he looked right at the young woman's face and suddenly feeling very shy looked over his shoulder and then down to the floor. He was going to trample this poor woman with his two left feet, or play bumper couples as he bashed into other dancing pairs. This wasn't going to be good. Certainly not. He almost seemed to think on the idea of removing his hands and returning to his barstool.
"Trust me, nobody is watching. We can go at your pace."
Ok, she was trying to reassure him and even though he felt this promise was a bunch of hogspit (meaning people not watching) he would do his best to get through it. Still, he still felt nervous and could only nod, his head lowered staring blatantly at his feet as if willing them not to mess up.
He began to count in his head as they started to move. He was actually pretty decent at counting because he was a musician and that was a big part of it, rythms and whatnot. Even if Kara was counting aloud he was still counting in his head, willing his feet to move, a bit heavily at first. He wasn't perfect or even all that decent, but at least he wasn't stepping on anyone, just yet anyways.
He felt the need to make a little joke, or at least try to make conversation but for some reason he could only clear his throat and no words would come out. And if they eventually had they would have been muffled just like usual with the soft spoken man.
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Post by Kara Barnhill on Jul 5, 2009 18:55:29 GMT -5
Kara couldn’t help but smile at the man’s sudden wave of nerves and unease. It wasn’t like it would kill him, so there was no harm in finding it endearing. He definitely didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, but Kara was a patient person, when caught in the right situation, and so she kept him right where he needed to be.
His floundering with placing his hand at her hip almost made her laugh, but she kept it inside, not wishing to insult his pride, or his person. “There you go,” she encouraged when he finally started to get it. All he needed to do was relax.
She let him continue the way he was, though, for a few more minutes. “You’re doing great,” she smiled up to him, and the continued. “You’ve got the steps down, just let it flow. Relax, agent.” She grinned a bit. “I know its probably not something you do often.”
That was, in Kara’s opinion, the number one reason for failed dance attempts. People were too stiff, too uptight. They needed to just let it flow. Let the music tell them what they needed to do, when, and where. Perhaps he would understand that?
She quietly offered it, “Do you like music?” She mused aside that she had yet to call him by his name. Perhaps she didn’t feel as if she knew him well enough to simply refer to him that way yet. Either way, she once more evaded the use of “Matt”. Maybe she would do it once before the night was over.
If Matt was worried about bashing into the other dancers, it was something he really didn’t have too much to worry about. The others were easily maneuvering around them as they needed, and nobody was even giving them a second glance. “If you listen closely enough, the music tells you when to do everything.” It sounded crazy. She had seen many a puzzled look given to her when she used such an analogy. But, it was worth the risk, because every once in a while it struck home with someone.
“Not too bad, now, is it?” She laughed pleasantly a few moments later. If he really was not enjoying himself, the song was going to end soon. His torture would be over. But, Kara held it in high regard he was out there trying at all.
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Jul 6, 2009 22:53:43 GMT -5
This young lady was being so patient with him, his heart went out to her. It couldn't be very easy. He wasn't any Fred Astaire that was for certain. By now he was more of a nervous middleschooler at his first dance than anything else. Not exactly light on his feet but at least he hadn't stepped on any toes or injured any bystanders. Didn't necessarily qualify as a 'good attempt' but it certainly wasn't a god awful one.
She was doing her best to encourage him and he did his own personal best to swallow and give her a bit of a smile to try and show that he was enjoying himself. Unfortunately it came out a bit crooked and even sheepish, for Matthew that said a lot and his cheeks even turned a light shade of red in apology. Wasn't she at all embarassed of dancing with him?
Still holding his breath he was momentarily diverted attention wise when Kara asked about music. He loved music and this got him to forget about the steps. "Love it." Okay, perhaps this wasn't the most masculine choice of words but he hadn't been thinking and that's what came out. He loved music. It was his number one priority. At times it was even his girlfriend.
Suddenly feeling very greedy for even saying two words about himself he cleared his throat and looked to her. "What kind of music do you listen to?"
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Post by Kara Barnhill on Jul 7, 2009 15:55:39 GMT -5
It was taking everything Kara had in her to not laugh at the gentleman dancing with her. Was she, in all of her five feet and four inch height, bright smile and cheery eyes, was she truly that intimidating? Was dancing with her that horrible? It was not, however, a laugh meant to insult him. She was just incredibly amused that he was being so shy.
He had said he loved music, and then fell silent again. Well, then. Her little quip about listening to it was not lost. He would understand. She did not speak any more, though. She did not wish to make him feel more ill at ease than he was, the poor thing. Her amused brown eyes flashed out over the rest of the floor.
Then, he inquired as to her own tastes. “What kind of music do I listen to,” she repeated aloud, somewhat amused by that question as well. “More likely the proper question is what I don’t listen to. I am a rather eclectic person.” She added thoughtfully.
“I will not listen to that emo stuff that seems to be so popular. Nor the screamo music that also seems to be rather popular…everything else is pretty fair game.” She looked back up at Matt, and the song ended. Kara mused inwardly that it was probably the high-light of his night.
“I mean, there are songs from every genre that I don’t particularly care for,” she expounded quietly, stepping back and giving him a short curtsy, and smiling up at him.
“How about you Mr. Astaire?” She asked playfully. “What kind of music do you listen to?”
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Jul 8, 2009 15:54:31 GMT -5
Counting the beats in his head turned into his own natural ability to keep the beat like he did when he played his guitar. Of course he wasn't exactly becoming so caught up in the strumming of his own instrument that he could get lost in the music and dance around (or attempt to) like an oaf. No, this was a REAL dance with a partner that was living and breathing. This was a dance that had actual steps. Still, he tried to get by as best as he could.
The young woman who was his partner was gorgeous in a brainy sort of way. There was no denying that though Matthew probably had nearly fifteen years on her. Of course he wasn't being lechorous by noting this, it was just something that he quietly acknowledged on his own. He was too much of a gentleman to voice such a meaningless fact. And besides, he was sure that Kara knew she was pretty anyways. College boys probably reminded her all of the time. She was probably out of everyone's league anyways, being as perfect as she was.
“I will not listen to that emo stuff that seems to be so popular. Nor the screamo music that also seems to be rather popular…everything else is pretty fair game.”
He was actually glad for this bit of conversation as it distracted him from what his feet were doing. "Well then.." Matthew mused with a bit of a smile, his eyes falling upon Kara's face with a half smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "You're better off than most then." Matt couldn't STAND the emo or scream-o music. He had no idea why people listened to songs where they were being yelled at. Didn't kids get enough of that from their parents?
"I listen to a little bit of everything as well. Long as it sounds good and the message is right I can really entertain just about anything." She didn't need to know that he played, she probably wouldn't care anyways. Currently his guitar pick necklace that he never took off dangled by his chest. It was always close by.
The song came to an end, and at first Matthew didn't even realize it. It was only after a few seconds that he caught the biting sound of silence and bashfully haulted, blushing some (for the second time in the evening) and released her. Poor girl would probably be greatful for it, not to have him clinging on her or hanging off of her like some sort of dance crutch.
She curtsied to him and he watched quietly. Yeah, definitely not his class. Though not raised in the city of in expnesive schools, Matt was still a southern gentleman and though he didn't bow (out of fear of looking like a complete fool) he did bow his head politely. "Thank you for the dance." He told her gently and though he should have probably left her alone he didn't back up. Instead he remained where he stood in the middle of the dance floor.
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Post by Kara Barnhill on Jul 8, 2009 16:43:05 GMT -5
Kara had no idea that the man was doing some profiling of his own as they danced. Though, she would have been quite amused if she had been aware of what had gone through his mind regarding her lifestyle around campus. It was curious, perhaps, that someone would think she was an eye-catcher. Most boys at school paid her no mind, in truth. Something about her in the academic setting could be taken as intimidating. She spent so much time working and studying and striving to reach her goals, she had no time to spare with any of them anyway.
Though, as he read her, the profiler-in-training was returning the favor. He admitted that their choice in music was similar, and that made sense to Kara. A good message was always great. Though, she found herself a bit more partial to beats. But that was simply the dancer in her. So the message was what meant the most to him? Was he a writer, perhaps? She studied him a bit more, finally noticing the blatantly obvious sign right in front of her.
A guitar pick necklace.
He wrote songs.
“Good messages are important for songs,” Kara agreed as the song had ended, and he had offered a rather gentlemanly bow of the head. She supposed dancing etiquette was strange to some. Still, it was kind of him to return the show. She grinned. “So, the ones you write must be meaningful.”
She almost laughed. What she had just said would come across strong; something that Kara, perhaps, needed to work on. She was a bit quirky. But weren’t all people strange in their own way? For Kara Barnhill it was simply that she was overly bold at times. There were worse flaws, she supposed. Though for someone new, probably not very many.
The next song was starting up, and Kara could already tell that Matt was not going to be up for another dance—his cheeks were still a bit pink from a blush that Kara could not understand. He had done very well. “Alright, Agent,” she hummed aloud. “For putting up with me for a whole dance, I shall treat you to one of the local brews.” He probably wanted to drink to calm his nerves anyway. It was the least she could do. She had been a bit pushy.
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Jul 8, 2009 23:18:17 GMT -5
“So, the ones you write must be meaningful.”
"Hm?" Matthew blinked, actually thinking that he may have heard her incorrectly. His dark eyes appeared a bit dazed, to be truthful he was beside himself by being in such company let alone someone who was so patient, lovely, young, and not to mention so light on their feet. This had him a bit offguard and when he glanced down at his chest spotting that his guitar pick was showing against his chest he actually smiled a bit, embarassed. He understood now.
"It was a gift actually." He wasn't denying that he wrote or played songs, however he wasn't going to confirm it either, even if this was a stranger and she was awfully pretty. He had just always been so particular about separating his music from his work, and though he wasn't working now the habit still kept up with him.
Thoughtfully he reached up and lifted it a tad from his chest so Kate could get a better look. "From my older sister, Jill." He explained, hiding the pain VERY well. It had been years since she was killed so he no longer looked like a beaten puppy when he said her name. Time did soften wounds and made them easier to hide, but it certainly didn't heal them like people claimed. At least people from his town anyways.
“Alright, Agent,” she hummed aloud. “For putting up with me for a whole dance, I shall treat you to one of the local brews.”
Now *this* was a young woman who was raised right! Matt appreciated this gesture, not to mention that she didn't seem prissy at all like most girls after you embarassed them on the dance floor, or didn't leave when they wanted you to. His eyes even seemed to brighten with this little promise. It was the simple things in life that a country raised boy could appreciate.
"Alright. Just one." He nodded, there was no use denying his love for the local brews. Wine, no thank you, but a nice bottle of 'random lake name here' followed by 'beer' and he was in business! "But only if I can buy you something to drink." And he wasn't going to take no for an answer. It was just a friendly offer and it was really to pay her back for putting up with him and being so patient.
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Post by Kara Barnhill on Jul 9, 2009 20:05:46 GMT -5
He consented to wanting a drink; and Kara smiled. It was not overly cheery, nor bright. Something about the last bit of conversation about his necklace seemed to leave the woman with a bad feeling. She was not entirely sure as to why; though, her mothering instinct rarely ever missed the mark. It was not her place to pry, and so she simply followed silently behind the man to the bar.
"But only if I can buy you something to drink."
"I don't believe you would take no for an answer," she mused aloud. They had approached the bar at that point, and Kara took it upon herself to flag down the bartender. She leaned against the counter and tossed Matt a smile. By the time she turned her attention back to the bar, the bartender was standing there attentive.
"What can I get you?" He asked.
"A local." She replied. This, undoubtedly, had taken the man aback. Looking at Kara, it certainly didn't look like that would be the type of drink she would be seeking. Still, the man turned and went to fetch it for her.
She shifted herself, then to face Matt once more. He wanted to buy her a drink, so she figured it would only be right to inform him of what she wanted. Nothing too heavy, that’s for sure. She still had to drive home; not to mention she had class in the morning. She didn’t want to be sick. “I’ll just have a daiquiri.” She offered quietly.
Not enough alcohol in that to put her over the edge. Seemed like the right choice for the evening. Not to mention, strawberries were one of her favorite foods.
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Jul 10, 2009 16:05:30 GMT -5
"I don't believe you would take no for an answer."
"You're right." Matt chuckled. God this girl seemed to catch on quickly. All the better for her then. Leaning over the bar he clasped his hand together and actually found they were sweaty from the earlier nerves of dancing. Hopefully Kara hadn't noticed or at least wasn't offended and in that split moment he wiped his hands down his jeans, trying to be slick about it. No use in repeating the same mistake twice.
"Daiquiri for the young lady please." He told the bartender. Yeah, once the word of the drink left her mouth he was anything but surprised. That's exactly something that sort of girl would drink. Definitely not a beer bottle kind of girl.
"So you like those fruity kind of beverages?" He questioned lightly. His left hand reached out and he took the bottle that was offered and with a soft, effortless grunt (now that his hands were dry) he undid the top. But he didn't take a sip. He was a good, southern gentleman and damnit, he was going to wait for Kara to be served even if they had just met and they were in a bar that didn't exactly encourage formalities.
"Not in the sense that it's silly, I just meant, it tastes like fruit well... You know.." God he must have sounded stupid so he was all too relieved when the bartender handed Kara her drink and he could shut himself up with a sip of the bitter beer.
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