The Second Date

[wipeawaythedebt]

The first date, as he's getting used to calling it, went pretty well. They talked, had a few drinks, and he kindly escorted Emma home again. All in all, a good night. So why is he so much jumpier tonight. Wasn't like he didn't know the woman, wasn't like he had anything to prove or hell, even be ashamed of. Taking an evening in the company of a beautiful woman, he should be right as rain. After all, it's been awhile and it wasn't like he'd taken any vows of celibacy.

Still, as he stands at her door with a small bunch of daisies in his hand, clean shirt and jeans and a freshly shaved face, he finds his heart pounding and his head spinning. He's not a good man, he's got no reason to expect anything. No reason to think she should spend time with him, or him with her.

Fuck it, she invited him. He's thinking too much.

He knocks on the door.

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[wipeawaythedebt]

He's tempted to tell her that truth isn't exactly his strong suit either, and she can ask Elizabeth about that. But the words are drying up in his mouth even as the remainders of his headache ebb. He needs time to think, maybe they both do, right now isn't the time to be making any rash choices.

Taking the hand around his wrist, he brings it to his lips. "Don't know if I'm that kind of man, but I meant what I said. Look me up. But I should probably go before I make a bigger mess. It was lovely for you to invite me, Emma. I hope it's not the last time."

[notinanybook]

She nods once, quietly. It's not something she'll do right after he leaves, but maybe over the next few days, after her curiosity earns the better of her. Instead she lets her gaze hold in his for the measure of a few beats and then slips her hand from his, leading him to the door.

"Neither do I," she murmurs, shortly before he steps through and out, and once the door's shut behind him she draws a breath, shoves a hand through her hair, and just - stops, for a moment, letting her brain process.