Dine And Dash! [IC]

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Uneasy Goat

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The snow began to fall more regularly as winter truly began to set in, the chill in the air causing Gordon's teeth to begin to chatter. His black leather jacket did nothing to keep him truly warm, but it was better than looking like the animated marshmallows who waddled the winter wonderland who appeared to be ready to topple over with every step. He smiled as the imagine crossing the street simply to push one of them over just to watch them flail in the snow in their failed attempts to get back up. His hand gripped the bag from their local grocer as the shivering became more severe and his attention turned to the diner.

It's too damned cold, he thought angrily, I just want to lay in bed all day. He sighed as his feet sank into the snow, getting ice inside his boots and causing him to cringe and walk faster. His gloves were about as useful as his jacket was, the snow that fell from the sky filling the flared edges of them and soaking his hands. Winter was not exactly his favorite season, and he wished they lived somewhere in the south where the winter was more akin to a northern summer. His steps were lighter and faster as he moved along the sidewalk, not realizing by the time he approached the diner that he was almost at a full sprint. The only thing faster than his current pace was the quickness of his head hitting the pavement.

From an outsider's view, this would be comical. His legs flew from underneath him and he attempted to brace himself with the bag of tomatoes from Jeb, semi-successfully protecting his face from the impact. When he came to, he tried to stand up and immediately collapsed against the window of the shop on his right. His head was spinning and his thoughts were a blur, but he rubbed his face and when he looked at his hand covered in red his heart began to speed up. I'm bleeding! Fuck, why am bleeding this much? And what is this white shit? He didn't realize that he was looking around for an explanation as if it was something he dropped along with the tomatoes, and as he took a step he slipped once more, landing on his ass and cringing at the cold hard pain.

As he looked at the slaughtered produce in front of him, he realized that he was just wiping the tomato airbag off his face and felt incredibly silly for freaking out as he did. He also took note than none of these assholes were helping him, but he assumed that was his karma for considering going "People-Tipping" so he allowed the frustration to subside. His hand felt along the wall to the windowsill and he lifted himself painfully from the ground. Leaning down to grab the remnants of the tomatoes he purchased, he groaned as he realized he'd have to go back to the store for more. His breath escaped his mouth in a smoke cloud and he clenched both fists as he turned his attention to the sky.

"Damn you, winter!"
 
The spill did not go un-witnessed, nor indeed the curse unappreciated as winter continued to bear inexorably down like a thick grey blanket paradoxically unfit for its described use. With skies rendered a near-constant and dismal slate and the land a white wasteland pock-marked with the occasional salt-born slush many were those who would agree. Such was the one whose head poked out of the door as voice reached clouded ceiling in a bleat of impotent dismay. Winter was a dreadful time of the year and if not for the need to discern whether or not a co-worker had broken anything on the side-walk his benefactor would have much rather stayed cloistered inside with the heat.
Against all impulses to the contrary, a darkling figure emerged full into the cold just in time to stoop down in an effort to help gather up what had been a restock for the kitchen. Fresh-bought daily, now ruined by as he had said, that damn winter. A small smile crossed full lips as half-hooded eyes peered up at Gordon. No wounds beyond bruised pride...though, that might be joined by others in due time. For now, he seemed to be in a single relatively intact piece.
 
It may have been cold outside but it was pretty hot in the kitchen. Maybe it was half the dozen dishes Yuria was trying to balance cooking at the same time. And of course the mixture of the two was putting her in a foul mood. Then again what didn't put the monster in such a state? Yuria wasn't exactly a saint of patience or discipline and when you grew up stronger and bigger than most people it wasn't difficult to get the idea that you can just bully people around. Which was the reason she was back in the kitchen and on a wider scale not back in her home town. People didn't exactly appreciate what she could do when they were too busy harassing her over being the world's largest tarantula.

Despite her size and bulkiness she was very careful moving around in the kitchen and she was actually able to put her legs to work, using their flexibility and strength to move around plates and pots at her convenience. Of course that meant keeping her feet covered in this ridiculous little plastic casings and washing all of them before she worked. Freakin' clean freaks. At least it payed alright.

She stopped chopping up some carrots when she heard a sound outside -- followed by one of the most melodramatic declarations of rage she'd ever heard. Coming from a familiar source. She popped open window and glared out it at the source of the disturbance, looking none to pleased to see her useless boyfriend in his current state.

"Damn it, Gordon, stop playing in the snow and ruining all the food!" she called out the window, trying to stick her head out but getting her horns caught and putting her in an even fouler mood. She barely even gave recognition to that creepy pile of goo they called a co-worker, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously.
 
Warm and cozy under her plentiful duvets and tails Dahlia wouldn't even entertain the idea of waking up and getting out of bed. She opened her eyes to peek at the clock. Midday. Will was sure to admonish her today, as he did most day. Rolling over to the other side hoping to block the clock from her thoughts her eyes rested on her french windows and balcony completely covered in snow. Joy overcame her body. Snow! There was nothing Dahlia loved more in winter was snow. A lite fire place would be second. Pushing open her the french doors to the freezing air felt fabulous. Tentatively stepping in to the mound of snow made her squeal with delight. This was going to be the start of a great day. As she looked around the grounds of her plantation style home Dahlia's excitement grew as she realized the other best part of winter. Clothes. Upon her realization Dahlia slammed the french door walked over the mounds of clothes already accumulated on the floor and swung open her closet. Her eyes gleamed with mischief.

Ever since coming to Yuneek and learning to read and speak English Dahlia had set out to have a home just like the lady in her favorite book. Gone With the Wind. She had a plantation house moved and set up her in Yuneek. Though the only plantation thing about it was house not the grounds, save for the puny garden in back. Since reading the book Dahlia loved the thought of being a Southern Belle as well as the femininity that went along with it. Finally finding an outfit that pleased her girlishness she threw it on. Now all that was left was her long wavy mess of white hair. She shrugged it off and snatched a pair of well-loved boot from the floor. Her excitement grew as she barreled down the staircase. "Will! Will! Oh Will darling!" Dahlia called out lovingly. She had thrown on one boot and a woolen sock only half way on. But stopped and looked around the foyer. Where the hell was Will?
 
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The shovel ground against the concrete, it's bladed metal maw squeeling in what Will assumed was a pain similar to his own as he flung the last holdout of snow from the driveway. Every breath he took himself was ringed with discomfort, the winter air clawing down his throat. He looked down and watched the slowly melting water drip off the tool, like so much coagulated blood. "Killing is our buisness, and business is good," he whispered softly to the spade as he shook it with a swipe over the edge of the lawn before turning to go back indoors.

As he peeled off his wet boots in the garage he smiled realizing how dark his thoughts had become just because of a little cold. The snowfall last night had been a surprise to everyone, but he'd been prepared. His Riviera lay on it's rubber mat atop a lacquered blue floor, it's tires gleaming at intervals with tiny studs. He knew it was at home in this element, the engine's turbocharged hunger for frigid air near endless. He knew Dhalia's enthusiasm for the season might be comparable however, which made his morning's discomfort worth every minute. His smile blossomed into a grin as he thought of her still curled up in bed at a half past noon; A true believer in the lazy Sunday, she was. He was the weird one, getting up at 6:30am like it was any other day!

The Weird One made his way inside, his armor hanging in the washroom to let the blood evaporate after the victorious battle. He had donned a clean white long sleeve button up, a blue argyle sweater, a pair of khaki's, and some old brown loafers that had proven to be faithful companions over the past four years.

Dhalia's words floated into the kitchen as his stomach grumbled, and with his hands in his pockets, he strode into the foyer. "At your service, my dear," he spoke through a smirk and small bow. "You're up early I see!"
 
"At your service, my dear, you're up early I see!" Will called with a smirk and a bow. She whirled around "hah hah" She placed her hands on her hips "very funny..."She stuck a tongue out and blew a small raspberry at him.

"Where were you?" Although Will was only her assistant in name alone they shared so much more, sometimes even a bed. Suddenly remembering the plans for the day. She strode over to Will and locked an elbow with his. "Nevermind... Seeing as today is such a beautiful day..." She was hoping he'd forgotten and she would have a free day. "I would love to just pounce in the snow and make snowmen..." She rested her head on his shoulder. "And drink cocoa and read by the fire place.... Yes let's go play!" Clasping his hand she hoped to make her getaway. Her attempt though to drag him away with her was weak. Will was firmly in place.

Damn it. She thought.

Dahlia turned to face him with the biggest puppy dog eyes she could must as well as some fake tears tingeing her eyes. But it was too late. He was giving her 'the look'. No. Her lip pouted further as she brought his hand to her face. They stood there in silence for a handful of seconds. "ugh FINE!" She exclaimed. He knew her too well. Her ears twitched as her tails enveloped her. Her plans were foiled. Dahlia huffed dramatically, going into town just to sign papers and have meetings and review things bored her to death. Not that anyone knew that, to everyone in town she was the nicest and courteous person in town. Only Will knew of her messy tendencies and spoiled nature.

"Well then I guess this isn't suitable for meetings and such.." She looked down on her half put on sock and wrinkled skirt. "Now is it?" She looked up at him and grinned. As much as it annoyed her to do business, with him she would be in a lot of trouble if he wasn't firm when it came to his job. Dahlia sighed as she ascended the grand staircase. She stopped at the landing. She let her eyes land on him and smiled as she tilted her head to the side.

She's always heard about how great love was, all the electricity, the butterflies, the warmth. What she felt for Will wasn't how anybody had described to her. Maybe what she felt with him was her version of love, perhaps this happiness and warm regard for him was what love was. She'd only heard what love was from other human women. Maybe as an Inari this was love for her species.

"We're going to Arnold's Diner for lunch though... I may own that place but I'll be damned if Yuria isn't the best cook I've ever encountered." With that Dahlia walked to her room to throw her mass of white hair into a bun and dress more appropriate for her business interactions today. A wool grey a-line skirt and a crisp white collared shirt with an emerald cardigan and some more appropriate shoes, as well as some feminine touches finished her look. She put on her coat with a fur hood on as she descended the stairs.
 
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Gordon appreciated the help, his body sore and his pride fairly beaten. He didn't know this other very well, they had never formally spoken or frankly been introduced, but maybe this was the opportunity to strengthen their relationship. As he picked up the remnants of his grocery run, he locked eyes with Nil and smiled warmly as he spoke, "Thank you for the help... Nil, right?"

A response was cut off by the loud bitching made by his very loud girlfriend, her voice piercing and negative. It startled him so much that he almost lost his balance again, but caught himself on the wall. He continued to pick up the produce and wobbled his way inside the warmth of the diner, the smell of cleaner and dishwashing solution violating his nostrils and ruining the mood. He hated Saturdays, the "errand day" that forced him from the lovely smell of food being made and climate controlled peace and into the world of freezing cold walks and pungent cleaners. How he wished he could just lay in bed all day, putting all the worries off until a perpetual "tomorrow".

He placed his disappointment on the counter and began to take off his jacket and gloves, shaking off the icy powder that gathered on his head. He reached for a napkin and wiped the red from his face, feeling the a sharp sting near his eye and drawing the napkin back to see a spot of dark red mixed with the light red paste. I suppose I couldn't be that lucky, he thought as he sighed and grabbed a fresh napkin to put pressure on the cut he had. He looked through the kitchen to see Yuria in her hilarious kitchen cleaning garb and couldn't help but give slight chuckle as he called out to her.

"You need a hand? Or eight?"
 
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With the emergence of a familiar face from one of the windows like some gathering storm on the horizon, Nil responded to the glower with the same subdued smile that seemed to emerge so easily. Knowing that Gordon’s mate was perpetually soured, a show was made in settling him on his feet while what remained of the groceries were deftly gathered and examined for survivors. Not a total loss, what remained was still paltry in comparison to the formless paste his body had reduced the rest.
All conversation cut short, a moment was taken as Gordon let himself inside. Relieved of the sticky mess that had been food, eyes drifted skyward and a deep breath pierced what passed for lungs. The moment was short-lived. Warmth beckoned along with a half-cleaned floor, front windows, tables, counter...a soft sigh managed to escape before that subdued smile returned to its proper place. One eye on the errand boy, another fixed upon the partition between main room and kitchen, Nil returned to the motions of cleaning what was already clean.
 
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As Dahlia set her feet on the carpet of the foyer, Will silently slipped his arm behind her waist and with a careful gesture placed his hand on her cheek just the way she had not 15 minutes before.

"Dahlia..." he said suppressing good-matured laughter, "You're in so much of a hurry you've forgotten that it's Saturday, silly girl" He kissed her on the forehead reassuringly. "There are no papers to sign, no meetings to attend. We can do whatever your heart desires."

He dropped his eyes to his stomach as it grumbled once again. "My organs and I personally think Arnold's would be grand!" It was now his turn to clasp her hand in an offer of adventure. "We should take my car for once, it's got studded tires for the ice we're bound to hit"
 
"Dahlia..." he said, suppressing a chuckle, "You're in so much of a hurry you've forgotten that it's Saturday, silly girl" Will kissed her on the forehead softly. "There are no papers to sign, no meetings to attend. We can do whatever your heart desires." Dahlia's cheeks flushed. She could've sworn it was Thursday. Where had the time gone?

Lost in her thoughts she was startled when Will proclaimed "My organs and I personally think Arnold's would be grand!" He clasped her hand and they went scuttling off to the garage. "We should take my car for once, it's got studded tires for the ice we're bound to hit" Dahlia whined like a spoiled child. "Can't we take the G-wagon? Or the LS?" She urged. But he was already set and they started to head into town. They made their way down the freshly scrapped driveway thanks to Will. Dahlia rested her head against the frigid window as the gate slowly opened and when the gate closed so did her eyes.

The Riviera was Will's personal car and as people would say his 'baby'. But Dahlia hated it. It looked old and and not as grand as her other vehicles. When Dahlia was out in public she was highly aware of everyone around and how they would perceive her. That's why in public Dahlia seemed so perfect. Because she had to be. There's been some hatred for monster girls for quite sometime and she wouldn't do anything to damage the reputations of the ones already in town. No matter how many random strangers hurled insults at her. She was going to be seen as beautiful, kind, and respectable no matter what.

Dahlia sighed disdainfully and opened her eyes. They were half way to town and her stomach pains increased. Time to shine she thought. Looking straight forward Dahlia prepared herself for a lunch and some possible shopping in town. As long as people kept seeing her soon she'd be seen as normal, at least that's what she hoped to happen. She shrugged off the negativity and plastered a smile on.
 
As he came around to enter the building she got back to work, still juggling a couple of different dishes as she was the only one working in the kitchen. What a pain. She was able to multitask better than anyone -- okay, Her Blobiness Nil had done some crazy stuff all at once before but that wasn't the point. She wasn't the slaving over the stove to make sure there was hot food to be put on the tables.

She heard the door open she put the lid back on the pot and got out a knife, ready to chop up some more vegetables as Gordon brought in what hadn't been ruined by his little spill. Someone was going to have to clean up what'd been ruined. Ugh. She prayed it wasn't her. Just because she had the most fur and stayed the most warm didn't mean she enjoyed it. At least in the kitchen she could create something, maybe make something of herself. Yuria didn't look it -- hell, no ushi-oni looked like much more than a big, creepy brute in the eyes of most humans and monsters -- but she wasn't just back here to keep out of the way and to not yell at uppity customers. She liked working with food, making something out of raw materials and turning it into something wonderful. It's why she got so snappy with Gordon, going and ruining her perfectly good food. How as an artist to work?!

She heard her boyfriend tease her a bit, a vein pulsing on her brow at the eight hand comment. She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, about to say something snappy when she noticed the bloodied napkin pressed to his brow. Immediately she dropped everything and scuttled over, sighing as she moved his hand to take a look at the cut. It wasn't major. Ugh, the lug just had to go and hurt himself two feet away from the door.

"Damn it, Gordie, be more careful," she said, her voice tense and chiding though there was worry in her eyes as she pressed the napkin back against his head and helped him hold it there, idly brushing her fingers through his hair as she did so. "Keep this up and you're going to end up as a load of stumps waddling in through that door one of these days."
 
He smiled warmly at her snippiness, the concern poking through her charade and her softer than expected touch on his temple. As her hands brushed through his hair, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be swept into her embrace, stinging as it was. The warmth of the diner was pleasant and consuming, mixing that with the attention from Yuria made this almost paradise. They had their issues in the past, but the way things had gone the last couple years it was as if this city was what they'd needed all along. The walks at night when the city was quiet and peaceful, protected from prying eyes and judgmental mutterings, were the only thing he found pleasant about this city. As her fingers (large as they were) traced through his hair, his consciousness began to fade and her voice began to dissipate into the darkness.

A fleeting panic began to surge through him, his eyes like stone walls as he tried to open them. Her arms around him were all he could sense, her heat keeping him safe from any harm the darkness could inflict. His hands were numb and nonexistent, her voice was like a sweet lullaby and before he knew it there was only silence.
 
The gravel driveway leading to Dhalia's plantation house was lined on either side by trees planted decades ago; their leaves rotting underneath the freshly fallen snow. He wondered who had sown the seeds, why they'd decided to do it in the first place, and what they'd think of their prior home now. He'd moved in only a few months ago, yet couldn't help but begin to feel attached to the property. It had so much potential for growth.

A sharp, wet crack with an accompanying jolt meant he'd accidentally ran over a frozen pot hole. "Sorry," he mumbled, stealing a glance at Dhalia. She was unresponsive with her head leaned against the window and eyes shut. He recognized that look and he felt his heart sink a little in his chest. He didn't mean to upset her by insisting they take his vehicle; he knew how she hated it. But he also knew how dangerous icy roads could be. How could he explain to someone who'd never been in a wreck how terrifying being at the mercy of chance was? Her assumption that the car was simply a man's toy or his "baby" so to speak, legitimately hurt him. Of course it was an old, large, and loud muscle car, but how could he help her understand just how much this machine meant to him? He'd spent hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars replacing worn parts, fixing the body, and building an engine for it that could exist without compromise. The car was not a dependent messy child, it was his friend. It possessed a symbiotic soul that granted him the chance to experience an unprecedented level of freedom, protection, and endurance. In return, it asked him for fuel, for concentrated control, and caring upkeep. It was a black and white, give and take relationship. A break from the gray haze of the human world. He imagined Dhalia took the warm air exiting the vents on the dashboard for granted (he couldn't compete with the Mercedes' heated seats). He assumed she didn't notice how clean the interior was either. He didn't blame her for not noticing, yet he wondered if she'd be smiling now if she'd known how much loving work he'd invested in these components so she could ride in comfort.

Hearing her sigh, he reached across the shiny leather bench-seat, gently squeezing one of her fluffy white tails. "Hey," he murmured sympathetically, "Cheer up, Pumpkin. This week's been hard, I know. I've been there in the shit with you every step. That's why we owe it to ourselves to relax and enjoy the winter." He began to stroke the tail closest to him, hoping it would convey the things he could not fit into words.

You see, he truly did love Dhalia. She was simply a joy to be around, whether they were at work or relaxing at home. He thought her unique foxy traits were just impossibly adorable, and he always earnestly tried to be the best friend she deserved. He couldn't shake a nagging fear of inadequacy however, as if he was not the man she needed in her life. He worried, in moments like this, that there was no way for him to reach Dhalia. His silly words and forward attitude this morning felt on some level forced. Not in the least insincere, but unnatural all the same. They hadn't spoken of committing to each other since he'd moved in, and they'd never been truly intimate either. At least, from what he knew. He blushed at the memory of the weekend prior, when they'd both woken up half naked in each other's arms with dual hangovers that manufactured a confused shame that had lingered since they'd yet to really discuss the event. Maybe tonight he could bring it up? He felt a surge of optimism as snowflakes began to drift lazily down from the heavens once more, beginning to cover the highway once again.
 
"Hey," Will spoke softly, "Cheer up, Pumpkin. This week's been hard, I know. I've been there in the shit with you every step. That's why we owe it to ourselves to relax and enjoy the winter." She'd only half heard his words when he began stroking on of her tails. A jolt of electricity shot down her spine as a rosy shade slowly crept across her cheeks. "S-stop it Will!" she managed to stammer out before hastily pulling her tail back in her lap.

Ever since a week ago, when they found themselves half naked in bed together, their relationship had become... strange. Teetering between normal cute affection that they'd always shared and distance. Was she in love? Dahlia hadn't the slightest clue. The Internet had been of no help to her and it didn't help Dahlia that she had no idea what she was doing either. She had put into Bing, Ask Jeeves, and even Yahoo all of her inquires. 'Sax, sax with men, sleeping together, sharing a bed, and even couples" But none if it helped her. Everything was, as always, vague. The only clear thing she knew was bedding was on sale at Target.

Ever since being forced out of Zipangu, Dahlia had set out on finding true love. She wouldn't settle for the first man that peaked her interest or lust. The man her mother had married had been awful to her and her mother. But her mom loved him all the same. It was her lust that obviously clouded her mind, that had to be it. It didn't matter how rich a man was it didn't assure that he wasn't a brute.

They finally entered town and truly cleanly scrapped street. Dahlia was sad to see that some of the snow had already been scrapped away or melted on the sidewalks. But hope was on the rise as more began to fall and joy surged in her heart. They were a mere 20 or 15 minutes away from the restaurant with the snow traffic. Steak or perhaps a soup was in mind for Dahlia today. Yuneek was vastly different from Zipangu, an island nation. Her first year abroad had been an extreme adjustment period. It was cold, truly cold for her for the first time. When she saw snow the first time she thought the world must be ending. A smile slipped across her face. That was the same day she'd seen emotion from Will for the first time. He'd on been working for her for a few week and was very stoic and at her outburst of screaming and crying he had laughed. In her face. She'd thought he'd become crazy. It was only after he had explained to her what snow was that Dahlia laughed too.

When did things become so complicated, she contemplated.
 
Soon enough, the morning crowds began to drift in, hindered by neither rain, sleet, snow. In fact, that was why many showed up, familiar faces all to warm themselves with food or drink. Nil fell naturally into the servant’s role as they settled in their seats, taking orders with a bow and a smile. Rare though it was, some even garnered playful comment as banter passed between orders until all were accounted for and carried toward the kitchen’s window.
Only then was Gordon’s prone form noted, half-hidden behind chairs and counter. With a cautious glance back at those who milled about, chatting amongst each other Nil made quick to investigate. It wouldn’t do to stress any of the customers, though in this town at least most would be more apt to lend a hand than anything else. Still, they were here to relax and Nil for her part would make certain that they did so above all other considerations.
 
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At first she just thought that her and Gordon were having a moment as they said nothing her, holding tightly as she played with his hair and comforted him. Then he went limp in her arms. She blinked rapidly and looked down at him. Did he just pass out? She sighed deeply and muttered, "Damn it, Gordie." She dragged him over next to the sink, plopping him down on the counter and keeping him sitting up with one hand as the other grabbed a glass and fiddled with the faucet.

The two of them had been together for a few months now. Modern dating for her species was rather... different than it use to be. These days if you liked a man you were expected to go through the whole dating shtick instead of the tried and true method of dragging them home and making them your husband. Even having never been alive in a period where that was acceptable it sounded better to her. Maybe she was just impatient or not much of a romantic. If you liked a guy you got him, end of story. And she liked Gordon... well enough. She had doubts whether his affection for her was genuine but that was mostly paranoia. She didn't have image issues or anything but humans didn't always find her species attractive from the waist down. He'd never said anything about it and she was sure as hell not asking.

She began to splash his face with cold water, trying to revive him as she muttered, "Come on, Gordie, don't make me call the hospital..."
 
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As the chilling water splashed against his face, it was a rush as the light and sound returned with disorienting speed. He almost fell off of the counter as he tried to regain his balance and the room was spinning with a pounding thump in his head. He clenched his eyes shut and pressed his hand to his forehead as he muttered something unintelligible. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, the pressure against his temple not being soothed by his hand, and he managed to open an eye to look at Yuria.

His double-vision was a nightmare to focus with, his blinking only resetting the blur rather than helping it go away. He closed his eye again and leaned his head back, resting it on the cold wall and breathing slowly to maintain his consciousness. She was sweet, sweeter than he imagined she would be when he'd first met her. She was gruff, the kind of person (person...?) that could just as easily pick him up and tear him to pieces if she so desired... but she was sweet. The longer they'd spent together the more he began to see just how caring and cautious she was.

He avoided talking about her legs, the large appendages easily feared by most, but he enjoyed snuggling with her and resting between them. It was always a place of warmth, the fur soft and soothing, and Yuria was always so delicate with him that he never feared being harmed by them. His thoughts were a mess, as things seemed to be all day today, but they were a pleasant mess. For reasons he couldn't explain, he only wanted to think of her. He reached out his left hand and touched hers, interlocking their fingers and giving a warm smile.
 
Finally arriving in town, Dahlia's facade rose full. Flanked by building built between the 40's and 60's the town had a retro tint to it. Most of the buildings didn't reach above 2 or 3 stories, the only exception being the only upscale hotel in Yuneek, The Fairmont. It was built in the fifties, still retaining its vintage charm on the outside; however, the inside had be renovated like a 56 year old divorcee trying to find a new husband. It still was a sparkling gem of the city, great for drinks or getting married. Which were both things Dahlia would never seem to do.

Oh good... She thought. There was an open spot right in front of the diner. Which Will promptly drove past. "Will!" She exclaimed. He seem to be in deep thought and oblivious as to their destination. "You missed the restaurant..." He murmured a soft apology. And they parked a block or two down from the restaurant. Will opened her door and the made their way in silence down the patchwork of snow and scrapped sidewalk. Dahlia furrowed her eye brows. What is going on with him... with us? She pondered

"Oh Dahlia!" She snapped her head up with a smile. "oh hello Ms. Annette!" Dahlia proclaimed with a grin "How is Mr. Pugston? Is his leg any better?" Dahlia inquired. Creases formed all over Annette's face. Her husband had passed a few years ago and was left with her beloved Pug, Mr. Pugston. He was her personal dog as well as mascot in her antique store, Fern's Antiques, and had run out on to the street a several weeks ago and broke his leg. "Please dearie Annette is fine.... And he's made a full recovery..." She grinned and gestured to the window where he slept with his tongue protruded out just slightly. Annette and Mr. Pugston had probably had the same amount of wrinkles on their faces. Dahlia covered her mouth and chuckled at the sleeping dog. "Well it's good to see him in good health..." A customer called out to Annette. "Well I'll let you get back to business and I think I'll drop in after lunch for that Tiffany lamp. Have a lovely day!" She called to Annette as she made her way inside.

They continued to make their way down the street, Dahlia waved to Rick in the hardware store, Susan in the fabric store, and even Chelsea in the newly opened boutique in town. Finally they reached Arnold's Diner. Will opened the door for Dahlia and as she stepped towards the threshold an electricity ran through Dahlia making her weak in the knees and collapsing slightly, but fortunately Will grabbed her before she fell on the floor.

"Dahlia!" He exclaimed. "Are you alright?" Regaining her balance Dahlia slowly stood up. "Y-yeah..." She stuttered. "I'm probably just weak with hunger..." Dahlia tried to laugh it off. But something was not right. She shook off this notion and walked in a took to her favorite booth. She quickly picked up a menu and scanned it, as if she didn't know every dish the diner served. She peeked over her menu to see Will looking at her.

"What?"
 
Will gripped the shift knob, flexing his knuckles from red to white. Being told to "Stop!" trying to express his compassion for Dhalia only brought the laughing crowd of internal shame to the front row. He was jealous of the pleasant humming conversation between the road and the Riviera; they had surely known each other longer.

More bitter snickering from the crowd as he missed the restaurant. He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. He needed some fucking coffee and eggs already.

Walking past the downtown district shops he let the worries he'd built up scatter on their own volition. He could trust Dhalia. He could talk to Dhalia. It would be okay. Mr. Pugston echoed these sentiments like a real-life emoticon while he snoozed in the window; Don't sweat the small stuff.

As he sat in the booth of Arnold's his heart rate was still skippy since almost watching his companion eat the doorstep instead brunch, and he managed to catch Dhalia's glance with his as they looked over menus.

"Are you feeling okay, young lady? First you forget what day it is and now you forget how to walk? Maybe you should get a head start memorizing the 'seniors' section?" A humorous smile crept into the corners of his mouth, but his eyes held the serious caring core of the cluster of questions. He wanted to follow these queries with a reassuring hand on her's, but refrained in light of how the morning had progressed so far.
 
A blush rapidly covers Dahlia's face as she shoots Will a look. "Sh-shut up." It seems the blush was there to stay as it showed no signs of leaving. Sure Dahlia was older than most people in this diner but she was still young compared to other Inari. She pulled the menu closer in an attempt to hide her pinkness. When another wave crashed against her and goosebumps rose all over her body.

Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the menu and forced it down, clamping her eyes shut and heaving a few hard breathe. Dahlia attempted to gain her bearings, and it was a tad slow. A huge smile spread across her face. The sun warmed her face, highlighting her freckles and markings. She felt light. No stress. No anxiety over the thoughts of other people. Was this what Dahlia's mother spoke about? Could this...Was this... Is this love?

Dahlia set her sights on Will. A whirlpool of befuddlement and concern rested upon him. "Dahlia.... Are you okay?" All Dahlia could do was grin. "I'm fabulous Will." Dahlia's heart felt alight. Finally! Dahlia thought. Violet, a Kikimora, strolled up to their table. "Ah Miss. Eastbrook... Mr. Gibson!" Her tail wagged gaily behind her. "The usual?" She purposed. Dahlia let out a long "mmmmmhhmmmmm..."As she looked at violet and off she went to get their orders.

Before long Dahlia's iced roobios tea sat in front of her and Will's drink in front of him. This wasn't a menu but a specialty just for her. Renewed with the thought of love finally rooting it self in her heart, Dahlia was jubilant as she rhythmically shook 3 splenda packets in her iced tea. She took pleasure in the glass and metal clinking against each other. Finally things were setting in place! For so long Dahlia yearned to feel loved, to feel romance, and finally she had she had it.

Dahlia raised her dreamy gaze to Will, "So..." She said smirking slightly.
 
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