L
Lady Alainn
Guest
Original poster
-Beatrice-
"Who, in its right mind, would refuse such an offer? I may be young but I know what 'chance' means!"
That was the correct answer. Smug with satisfaction, Beatrice relaxed her posture once more, propping her elbows up on the table to rest her chin upon folded hands. For a good few seconds she stared down the actress as if to dare her to change her mind. When all that met her was the fiery gaze of fierce determination, the teacher knew they could finally get somewhere.
"Believe me, if you do end up wasting my precious, valuable time, I will revoke my offer immediately," she gushed in a poisonously sweet voice. It wasn't meant to be unnerving, merely an acknowledgement that this was a no-nonsense business. "I know you'll deliver, though. You have guts. Guts and an innocent complexion. That is a deadly combination, Diane, and one that could see you go far." Beatrice sat evaluating the girl across the table for a moment before setting her hands on the table to push herself back up. She turned to Ioria and settled a hand on his shoulder to pull him after her.
"Well, darling, I say we call this a successful night and head on home. Shall we go find the waitress?"
-Micah-
Throughout the entire conversation, Micah could feel a cold sweat building under his arms and above his upper lip. Part of it was from excitement, part of it from nervousness. This was actually happening, wasn't it? He'd actually be spending time with Diane! Practically alone! Maybe they'd be able to get to know each other better and her sweet frankness would be because she liked him and not a tease like it was tonight. He almost crossed his fingers right then and there.
Next thing he knew, Bea was tugging Ioria away to leave him alone with Diane again. He cleared his throat and barely kept the wavering from his voice, "Thanks for the coffee, Ioria." Jitters invaded his stomach. 'Please don't leave, please don't leave, please don't leave,' his thoughts begged while at the same time he couldn't wait to have some privacy with the girl he was trying to woo.
As his thoughts waged war with each other, he bowed his head and stared hard at his hands. It struck him, not for the first time, just how slender his fingers were. Long, slender, and scarless. Musician's fingers, his mom had always called them. Kids at school had always called them something less favourable. While other boys had paraded around with bruises and cuts, his hands had remained undamaged and uninteresting. A small smirk crossed his face. His hands were just an outward symbol of who he was, weren't they? Some people wore their emotions on their sleeves. He wore his life story on his hands.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Micah sat back and stuffed his hands in his pockets lest those deep-seeing eyes of Diane's landed on them and read the words printed so plainly there. He flicked his gaze in her direction, the shy smile forgotten on his face. "Hey, looks like this party's over for today. Want a ride home?"
"Who, in its right mind, would refuse such an offer? I may be young but I know what 'chance' means!"
That was the correct answer. Smug with satisfaction, Beatrice relaxed her posture once more, propping her elbows up on the table to rest her chin upon folded hands. For a good few seconds she stared down the actress as if to dare her to change her mind. When all that met her was the fiery gaze of fierce determination, the teacher knew they could finally get somewhere.
"Believe me, if you do end up wasting my precious, valuable time, I will revoke my offer immediately," she gushed in a poisonously sweet voice. It wasn't meant to be unnerving, merely an acknowledgement that this was a no-nonsense business. "I know you'll deliver, though. You have guts. Guts and an innocent complexion. That is a deadly combination, Diane, and one that could see you go far." Beatrice sat evaluating the girl across the table for a moment before setting her hands on the table to push herself back up. She turned to Ioria and settled a hand on his shoulder to pull him after her.
"Well, darling, I say we call this a successful night and head on home. Shall we go find the waitress?"
-Micah-
Throughout the entire conversation, Micah could feel a cold sweat building under his arms and above his upper lip. Part of it was from excitement, part of it from nervousness. This was actually happening, wasn't it? He'd actually be spending time with Diane! Practically alone! Maybe they'd be able to get to know each other better and her sweet frankness would be because she liked him and not a tease like it was tonight. He almost crossed his fingers right then and there.
Next thing he knew, Bea was tugging Ioria away to leave him alone with Diane again. He cleared his throat and barely kept the wavering from his voice, "Thanks for the coffee, Ioria." Jitters invaded his stomach. 'Please don't leave, please don't leave, please don't leave,' his thoughts begged while at the same time he couldn't wait to have some privacy with the girl he was trying to woo.
As his thoughts waged war with each other, he bowed his head and stared hard at his hands. It struck him, not for the first time, just how slender his fingers were. Long, slender, and scarless. Musician's fingers, his mom had always called them. Kids at school had always called them something less favourable. While other boys had paraded around with bruises and cuts, his hands had remained undamaged and uninteresting. A small smirk crossed his face. His hands were just an outward symbol of who he was, weren't they? Some people wore their emotions on their sleeves. He wore his life story on his hands.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Micah sat back and stuffed his hands in his pockets lest those deep-seeing eyes of Diane's landed on them and read the words printed so plainly there. He flicked his gaze in her direction, the shy smile forgotten on his face. "Hey, looks like this party's over for today. Want a ride home?"