[ Or several. Two equally terrible small-talkers, trying to converse. He's almost thankful he'd interrupted her study, just to have a topic to talk about. He cants his head to study the title. ]
...don't miss having to do all that study. Impressive field to work in, though. [ He takes a sip from his drink to cover the pause. ] I'm a handyman.
[ The best kind of lie: a technically true one. He could and did fix what needed fixing, up to and including helicopters. The 'fixing' just happened to include some illegal activity. Working under the cover of being a general handyman worked just fine.
It also allowed him to get out of that stuffy suit. People would recognise him for sure if he strutted around in the Turks 'uniform'. Thus, his leather jacket still draped over his abandoned seat, he's just in his t-shirt while talking to Sam. All the better to show off the biceps with. ]
[ It should have been worrying how easily he seemed to be able to pin her as "needing" a drink. Instead, it was kind of a relief; if he could already tell, there was less need to put walls around it and pretend like it wasn't happening. Didn't mean she had to tell him the whole reason, of course. But she could at least be a little more herself.
It seemed to her like he was doing the same thing. After all, he certainly didn't look like your average handyman.
(Though he definitely had the muscles of one.) ]
I've wanted to do it since I was a kid, you know? Save the animals and all that shit.
[ She wouldn't tell him that she'd been having doubts since the incident, that she'd taken a whole year off school and thought about changing her major the entire time, that she was terrified of the potential of having to go to forests or jungles or other remote locations in order to do the exact thing she'd always dreamed of doing. ]
What about you? What made you want to, you know, be a handyman?
[ He, too, would keep plenty of things to himself. There was no need to bring them up, not this early in the night, if at all. The longer he stayed here, living a quiet domestic life, the more they seemed to fade away into memory.
...most of the time. ]
The freedom. [ His shoulders bobbed in a short shrug. ] I could just learn a bunch of skills and use them when needed. There's a lot of work out there if you know how to do a lot of things.
[ Some things slightly less savoury than others. His eyes haven't wandered off Sam, watching her with quiet interest. He paused for another sip, letting the whiskey warm down his throat. ]
Means more time to work on my boxing. And to meet people.
[ After being tied up in a basement by someone she considered one of her best friends... yeah, she understood why freedom might be important to someone, even if the context was completely different. She nodded in silence, taking a sip from her own drink. It was her fourth of the night, and despite being mostly good with her pacing, following the last with this one so soon meant that she was really starting to feel the effects now.
That was probably the reason that his gaze on her felt so intense. It was all she could do not to squirm in her seat. His words distracted her though, at least for a moment, and she tilted her head in curiosity, eyes flicking back to his muscled arms. ]
[ No, Sammy, eyes down. Rude wasn't great at not being intense, even in the best circumstances. The fact that she's so easy on the eyes doesn't hurt. He tries to keep his attention on her face, giving a casual shrug. ]
Just as a hobby. Like you said - good stress release. Keeps me fit.
[ For other things. Speaking of which...things seem to be going well. He lets a pause linger, tipping back the last of his current drink, and decides to make a move. ]
You waiting for someone here tonight? Or just studying?
[ For all his intensity and size, he's trying not to menace. To make sure, without saying it, that she can knock him back if she wants without incident. ]
[ Keeps him fit indeed. Her eyes briefly flicked back to his arms before she met his eyes again. There was a slight heat to her cheeks, a warmth that was mostly due to the alcohol, but perhaps also a little in response to to attention he was showing her.
(Not that she would ever admit that part of it.)
Sam wasn't a newbie to the concept of drinking at bars, and so Rude's question didn't come entirely as a surprise. And under any normal circumstance, she would have turned him down, too, regardless of how attractive he was. Even before the incident at the Washington Lodge, she hadn't really been the type to go home with guys from bars. That had been much more Em's style than hers.
She could practically hear her now: Oh my God, Sam; quit being Little Miss Perfect for once in your life and just go for it!
She shook the voice out of her head. ]
I wasn't waiting for anyone. [ A smile. ] Were you?
[ A simple answer to a simple question. Though maybe not so simple. Regarding Sam - reading into her eyes for a little bit, rather than just admiring her looks - he figures that the honest approach might be best. ]
I was just planning to have a quiet drink. Head home if I didn't meet anyone.
[ And now...he had met her. Leaving it hanging is a lot smoother, he figures, than something like I was waiting for you, baby! He sniffs out a brief, amused noise. ]
[ That one got a chuckle out of her, too. The meaning behind it was clear, and yet he'd managed to put it across without the sleaziness it could have had. She smiled, taking another swig from her drink before raising an eyebrow at him. ]
Lucky, huh? Don't recall you gettin' a confirmation there, handsome.
[ Despite the words, her tone was flirty, a slight smirk pulling at her lips as she looked him up and down once more. Em's voice in her head was right. And besides, didn't she deserve to give herself a break once in a while? ]
What, you don't think I'm lucky just sitting here talking to you?
[ A shockingly smooth response, especially from him. That's probably his allocation of Cool Lines for the night in one go. It's not wrong, though; he does feel fortunate to get to sit here, admire her, feel a spark he's pretty sure she feels too.
Maybe it's just lust, but it's been a lonely life in this town. Among the irritations of a thousand brainless college girls, it's nice to find one he already likes. Rude sets his elbow on the bar, relaxing into their conversation. ]
[ Oh, damn. She had to give him that one. Not just smooth, but without sounding like an arrogant jerk. Impressive. Her lips curve into something that's more of a grin than a smile, and she shakes her head.
There are a lot of things she could say about how he probably picked the worst possible person in the bar, laden with as much baggage as she is, but she's giving herself a break tonight, isn't she? ]
See, now you've gone and put me in a tough spot. [ It sounds like a complaint, but that smile on her lips shows it's anything but. ] I can be modest, like a proper lady, or I can tell you how smooth that was and accept the compliment. Can't really do both.
[ The flirting comes easier than she would have expected. Maybe it's just that it's been a while since she's felt a real attraction. ]
[ He does try. Frequently fails...but tries. Honestly, he's shocked this is going as well as it is. Perhaps it is because it's a real attraction. He likes her more with every sentence. The easy banter, the sincerity behind it. ]
Sure you can. Just accept it modestly...not that I'm that interested in modesty. Girl who knows her worth is much better.
[ Not that he doesn't have a thing for the sexy nerd type too...but still. Rude lifts a hand, signalling towards the bartender. He flicks his eyes towards her, glancing up and down for just a moment. ]
[ It's a good thing for Sam then that she knows her worth. Again, it's probably in a different way to anything he could ever guess, but she knows it. His words make her laugh, another shake of her head as she raises her hands in a playful surrender. ]
Okay, okay. No modesty. That means I can just tell you it was smooth, right?
[ She's just about finished her drink. Really, she probably shouldn't have another - her head is quite cloudy now, her inhibitions lowers than she would usually like - but she nods anyway, leaning toward him slightly. ]
[ He eyes her for a second, just to be really sure she's all right for another. Getting the girl completely wasted would be a bad move. Even he's feeling the effects. The pleasant fog of drunkeness is settling over his senses, smoothing his thoughts and lowering his inhibitions.
Mostly, that results in him just eating her up with his eyes. Thank Gaia for the dark glasses, because he just can't stop staring. It had been an effort to turn away and signal the bartender, flicking up fingers for 'two more of the same'. ]
You can always say no. [ He flicks a different glance at her with that one. He knows he's big and intimidating, so it never hurts to establish that he's not gonna get mad if turned down. ] Might not want you to, but you can.
[ Part of him really just wants to say 'fuck it' and kiss her, right then and there. Bring her back to his place and make her forget all her dark thoughts. That might be...slightly premature. The more alcohol that goes in, the more his brainpower heads southward. ]
[ It's nice, she thinks, that even in response to a rhetorical question, something almost a flirty joke, he wants to make sure that she knows she has options. It's something a lot of guys around here wouldn't do. Perhaps it's a mark of his age - Sam of course has no idea how old he is exactly, but he's got at minimum a few years on her - or perhaps that's just who he is as a person. Either way, she likes it.
It's enough to have her reach out, laying a hand on his forearm - and holy shit does he have muscles everywhere? - as she shakes her head. ]
If it helps, Rude, I don't want me to say no either.
[ Still, this upcoming drink is probably going to be her limit, she thinks. Any more than that and she'll have gaps in her memory, later on. And Sam really, really doesn't like memory gaps. She smiles, keeping her hand in place for now. ]
Last one, though. Girl's gotta keep her head together, even if it's just a little. You know?
[ It's best not to think about it. Rude's nowhere near over the hill, but for all his consideration, an age gap is the least of his concerns. Especially when the person on the other end is as attractive as Sam.
His lips quirk when she touches his arm, just a little. That part is always a dead giveaway. ]
Good to hear.
[ He nods, easily accepting her limit. Maybe unconsciously flexes his arm a little under her hand. ]
That's fine. Reaching that point myself. [ It's a pleasant state right now, but aware enough to keep his guard up if anything bad happens. And if something good happens, he wants to remember it too. ] Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself while we're waiting, Sam?
[ She feels that slight flex in his muscles, the smile on her lips becoming something a little more playful as she raises her eyebrows at him. She knows what he's doing. And she's not complaining. To the contrary, actually - the slight flex is enough to get her brain disappearing south, thinking ahead several steps now. She tries to get it back on track by draining the last of her existing glass. It doesn't help.
What does help is the question that comes after his admission. Her smile falters for a moment as she tries to think of how she can put it into words. ]
You know... there's not that much to tell? My studies keep me pretty busy. I live off-campus with a cat and two dogs. No brothers or sisters, small circle of friends...
[ Used to be bigger, until my best friend and her sister died three years ago. Then a year later, their brother played some insane prank on us that somehow ended with him missing, another two of our friends dead, and a third in jail. ]
Sounds familiar. Don't have too many friends either. Mostly from work.
[ And those friends are far away, unable to be contacted until the heat's died down and he can go back to the Turks. Though really, more and more, that seems an unappealing option. Is this his out? Living in some college town, talking to gorgeous young woman, playing the handyman?
It's a thought for later. Rude's not great with words, but he's got good instincts. Enough to know his foot just brushed against a land mine.
...fuck it. He's just gonna go for it. Rude slips off his stool to stand next to her, quite a bit closer now. Rude can't help but loom, but he tries at least to not be intimidating about it. ]
That next drink probably won't help. [ With...everything. All the things he can sense, but not identify. Rude's voice is lower and softer now as he cocks his head towards the door. ] If you wanna keep getting to know each other...my place is nearby. I'll make you some coffee.
[ When Rude stands, Sam's heart sinks in her chest, just for a moment. The first halfway decent guy she's met in months, and she manages to scare him off.
(And how can she blame him? Who wouldn't be scared off, when a request as simple as "tell me about yourself" rips her apart at the seams?)
Imagine her surprise, then, when he doesn't walk away, but instead stands right next to her, with an offer to get out of this place. It's not that he didn't notice - she knows he did in the way his voice softens, in the way he tells her another drink won't help - but rather that... well, that he's a halfway decent guy. A lot may have changed for her, but her instincts are still good.
The smile on her lips is genuine, and Sam gets to her feet too, and maybe she's a little too close to him, but she doesn't mind. ]
[ It's quite the opposite. He's operating on instinct mixed with observation. She's got something heavy there that he's trying not to poke, but that thing is also what what draws him to her. Aside from her good looks, of course. There's no denying that he was attracted initially because she's so damn pretty.
Still...it's one of those times where being a decent guy, albeit a bit forceful, is the right move. He's confident about that. His large hand touches at her waist and stays there, indicating with the other to the bartender for the tab. ]
I'll pay up. Then we can get out of here.
[ The glimmer of a smirk crosses his face. This is a much better result than he'd expected for the night. Not just a girl to take home, but a genuinely interesting one. ]
[ For a moment, there's an argument on her lips, until Sam remembers that she already paid for her drinks up until the moment Rude walked into the bar. And so the argument dies off just like that, the young woman leaning into his side now as his hand finds her waist. ]
Sounds good.
[ God, now that she's standing up, she can finally get a sense of the fact that he's huge - he has to have at least a foot on her, something that's simultaneously both insanely hot and comforting.
For Sam, comfort is a big deal. His attractiveness is the cherry on top.
While she waits for him to pay, she puts her book back into her backpack and sends Ashley a quick message, letting her know that she'll check in tomorrow afternoon. ]
[ Quite a bit taller, quite a bit older, quite a bit stronger. It's probably inappropriate, but inappropriate is something that Rude has never cared much about at all. The bartender's still going to serve him no matter how many college girls he takes home and screws into the mattress.
Besides, this one? He likes. The transaction is quick, handing over a few folded bills to cover his drinks and the rest of hers. Rude just has to tuck his wallet back into his pocket and he's ready to go.
Once her backpack is secure, he sets a hand on the small of her back just below where her backpack hangs. They move out of the bar and into the much cooler night.
At times like this, he should probably talk. But he doesn't. Rude's comfortable enough with Sam already to be his usual silent self, lightly guiding her. Always touching her a little now, since things seem to be going so well. ]
[ Sam doesn't particularly care about whether this is appropriate or not; in fact, it's not even really something that's on her mind. His being quite a bit older is a plus when she finds too many guys her own age painfully immature. Taller and stronger can both go in two markedly different ways, of course, but she's felt no bad vibes, seen no warning signs that he's particularly dangerous.
Funny, for a girl who at the beginning of the conversation was ready to bash his skull in with a barstool, if she had to.
She doesn't mind the silence. It stretches between them in a way that's surprisingly not uncomfortable. In the cold air, even with her jacket and scarf, she finds herself leaning into his side a little as they walk, their shoes on the paved ground and their breathing the only real sound between them. ]
[ It wouldn't be the first time a girl had gone from wanting to kill him to wanting to screw him. He won't hold it against her. They've got an understanding now, if an unspoken one. It's an odd mixture of feelings with this girl: wanting to protect her, wanting to romance her, wanting to screw her until she forgets her name.
No reason he can't do all three. His arm slides around her waist with her continued closeness, letting their sides touch. That alone, enhanced by her scent and proximity, has his engines quickly starting to run.
The walk is short. Rude really does live only a couple of blocks from the bar. A single staircase takes them to his second-floor apartment; Rude lets go of her waist to unlock the door and usher her inside. ]
Make yourself at home.
[ It's an apartment fit for the man himself: clean, sparsely decorated, but comfortable. The only real luxuries are some workout equipment in a corner, a good leather couch and television, and a large bed visible through the open bedroom door. What few decorations he had seem vaguely Japanese - the closest he can find to Wutai around here. ]
[ It's not a long walk at all, perhaps even closer to the bar than her own place, which perhaps is something of a relief who a woman who prefers not to cross into too many shadows on the walk home. Although for once, her thoughts don't wander too much in those directions, distracted as she is by the alcohol in her system and the arm taut around her waist.
It's strange how an arm can represent so many things for her in a moment like this: strength and security come to her mind, but so too does the thought of how the muscles will flex and strain against the bed as he holds himself over her.
Sam grins. She might have had half a drink too many after all. But she's still just sober enough to know that drunk or not, she'd want this. The alcohol just gave her the courage to go through with it.
She smiles at him once he lets her inside, and moves around the main room, looking at the few decorations, the simplicity of the space. It's very him, she thinks, despite only knowing him for all of an hour.
It's also warmer than the bar or outside, and so Sam unwinds her scarf and takes off her faux-leather jacket, leaving them both draped over the couch for now. The black leggings and long-sleeved purple shirt she's wearing aren't exactly skimpy, but there's certainly less left to the imagination now. ]
[ Rude's eyes are on her, even while he moves into the kitchen area to switch on the kettle. The anticipation that had built all the way here pools and intensifies. He can't help but start forming a bulge in his pants, thinking of the very same thing: Sam underneath him, on top of him, on her knees before him.
Rude makes an executive decision. He peels off his shirt entirely, returning to her side only in his jeans. In his own house, with someone he's about to become very close to, there's no need for his habitual sunglasses either. ]
Didn't want to sound like a sleaze at the bar, but...you're real easy on the eyes.
[ He puts his hands on her waist, looking down at her with definite interest. The height difference is even more apparent at a time like this, divested of shoes and jackets - and in his case, entirely topless. 'Coffee' is just a flimsy excuse to take her home, but he thinks she might need it. He can't see a situation where she gets any sleep tonight. ]
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sempiternals2019-11-07 04:27 pm
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[ Or several. Two equally terrible small-talkers, trying to converse. He's almost thankful he'd interrupted her study, just to have a topic to talk about. He cants his head to study the title. ]
...don't miss having to do all that study. Impressive field to work in, though. [ He takes a sip from his drink to cover the pause. ] I'm a handyman.
[ The best kind of lie: a technically true one. He could and did fix what needed fixing, up to and including helicopters. The 'fixing' just happened to include some illegal activity. Working under the cover of being a general handyman worked just fine.
It also allowed him to get out of that stuffy suit. People would recognise him for sure if he strutted around in the Turks 'uniform'. Thus, his leather jacket still draped over his abandoned seat, he's just in his t-shirt while talking to Sam. All the better to show off the biceps with. ]
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It seemed to her like he was doing the same thing. After all, he certainly didn't look like your average handyman.
(Though he definitely had the muscles of one.) ]
I've wanted to do it since I was a kid, you know? Save the animals and all that shit.
[ She wouldn't tell him that she'd been having doubts since the incident, that she'd taken a whole year off school and thought about changing her major the entire time, that she was terrified of the potential of having to go to forests or jungles or other remote locations in order to do the exact thing she'd always dreamed of doing. ]
What about you? What made you want to, you know, be a handyman?
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[ He, too, would keep plenty of things to himself. There was no need to bring them up, not this early in the night, if at all. The longer he stayed here, living a quiet domestic life, the more they seemed to fade away into memory.
...most of the time. ]
The freedom. [ His shoulders bobbed in a short shrug. ] I could just learn a bunch of skills and use them when needed. There's a lot of work out there if you know how to do a lot of things.
[ Some things slightly less savoury than others. His eyes haven't wandered off Sam, watching her with quiet interest. He paused for another sip, letting the whiskey warm down his throat. ]
Means more time to work on my boxing. And to meet people.
no subject
That was probably the reason that his gaze on her felt so intense. It was all she could do not to squirm in her seat. His words distracted her though, at least for a moment, and she tilted her head in curiosity, eyes flicking back to his muscled arms. ]
You're a boxer?
[ Eyes up, Sammy. ]
It's probably a pretty good stress release, huh.
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Just as a hobby. Like you said - good stress release. Keeps me fit.
[ For other things. Speaking of which...things seem to be going well. He lets a pause linger, tipping back the last of his current drink, and decides to make a move. ]
You waiting for someone here tonight? Or just studying?
[ For all his intensity and size, he's trying not to menace. To make sure, without saying it, that she can knock him back if she wants without incident. ]
no subject
(Not that she would ever admit that part of it.)
Sam wasn't a newbie to the concept of drinking at bars, and so Rude's question didn't come entirely as a surprise. And under any normal circumstance, she would have turned him down, too, regardless of how attractive he was. Even before the incident at the Washington Lodge, she hadn't really been the type to go home with guys from bars. That had been much more Em's style than hers.
She could practically hear her now: Oh my God, Sam; quit being Little Miss Perfect for once in your life and just go for it!
She shook the voice out of her head. ]
I wasn't waiting for anyone. [ A smile. ] Were you?
no subject
[ A simple answer to a simple question. Though maybe not so simple. Regarding Sam - reading into her eyes for a little bit, rather than just admiring her looks - he figures that the honest approach might be best. ]
I was just planning to have a quiet drink. Head home if I didn't meet anyone.
[ And now...he had met her. Leaving it hanging is a lot smoother, he figures, than something like I was waiting for you, baby! He sniffs out a brief, amused noise. ]
Lucky me.
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Lucky, huh? Don't recall you gettin' a confirmation there, handsome.
[ Despite the words, her tone was flirty, a slight smirk pulling at her lips as she looked him up and down once more. Em's voice in her head was right. And besides, didn't she deserve to give herself a break once in a while? ]
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What, you don't think I'm lucky just sitting here talking to you?
[ A shockingly smooth response, especially from him. That's probably his allocation of Cool Lines for the night in one go. It's not wrong, though; he does feel fortunate to get to sit here, admire her, feel a spark he's pretty sure she feels too.
Maybe it's just lust, but it's been a lonely life in this town. Among the irritations of a thousand brainless college girls, it's nice to find one he already likes. Rude sets his elbow on the bar, relaxing into their conversation. ]
no subject
There are a lot of things she could say about how he probably picked the worst possible person in the bar, laden with as much baggage as she is, but she's giving herself a break tonight, isn't she? ]
See, now you've gone and put me in a tough spot. [ It sounds like a complaint, but that smile on her lips shows it's anything but. ] I can be modest, like a proper lady, or I can tell you how smooth that was and accept the compliment. Can't really do both.
[ The flirting comes easier than she would have expected. Maybe it's just that it's been a while since she's felt a real attraction. ]
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Sure you can. Just accept it modestly...not that I'm that interested in modesty. Girl who knows her worth is much better.
[ Not that he doesn't have a thing for the sexy nerd type too...but still. Rude lifts a hand, signalling towards the bartender. He flicks his eyes towards her, glancing up and down for just a moment. ]
I'm gonna get another. Want one?
no subject
Okay, okay. No modesty. That means I can just tell you it was smooth, right?
[ She's just about finished her drink. Really, she probably shouldn't have another - her head is quite cloudy now, her inhibitions lowers than she would usually like - but she nods anyway, leaning toward him slightly. ]
If you're offering, how can I say no?
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[ He eyes her for a second, just to be really sure she's all right for another. Getting the girl completely wasted would be a bad move. Even he's feeling the effects. The pleasant fog of drunkeness is settling over his senses, smoothing his thoughts and lowering his inhibitions.
Mostly, that results in him just eating her up with his eyes. Thank Gaia for the dark glasses, because he just can't stop staring. It had been an effort to turn away and signal the bartender, flicking up fingers for 'two more of the same'. ]
You can always say no. [ He flicks a different glance at her with that one. He knows he's big and intimidating, so it never hurts to establish that he's not gonna get mad if turned down. ] Might not want you to, but you can.
[ Part of him really just wants to say 'fuck it' and kiss her, right then and there. Bring her back to his place and make her forget all her dark thoughts. That might be...slightly premature. The more alcohol that goes in, the more his brainpower heads southward. ]
no subject
It's enough to have her reach out, laying a hand on his forearm - and holy shit does he have muscles everywhere? - as she shakes her head. ]
If it helps, Rude, I don't want me to say no either.
[ Still, this upcoming drink is probably going to be her limit, she thinks. Any more than that and she'll have gaps in her memory, later on. And Sam really, really doesn't like memory gaps. She smiles, keeping her hand in place for now. ]
Last one, though. Girl's gotta keep her head together, even if it's just a little. You know?
no subject
His lips quirk when she touches his arm, just a little. That part is always a dead giveaway. ]
Good to hear.
[ He nods, easily accepting her limit. Maybe unconsciously flexes his arm a little under her hand. ]
That's fine. Reaching that point myself. [ It's a pleasant state right now, but aware enough to keep his guard up if anything bad happens. And if something good happens, he wants to remember it too. ] Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself while we're waiting, Sam?
no subject
What does help is the question that comes after his admission. Her smile falters for a moment as she tries to think of how she can put it into words. ]
You know... there's not that much to tell? My studies keep me pretty busy. I live off-campus with a cat and two dogs. No brothers or sisters, small circle of friends...
[ Used to be bigger, until my best friend and her sister died three years ago. Then a year later, their brother played some insane prank on us that somehow ended with him missing, another two of our friends dead, and a third in jail. ]
...We don't see each other that often.
no subject
[ And those friends are far away, unable to be contacted until the heat's died down and he can go back to the Turks. Though really, more and more, that seems an unappealing option. Is this his out? Living in some college town, talking to gorgeous young woman, playing the handyman?
It's a thought for later. Rude's not great with words, but he's got good instincts. Enough to know his foot just brushed against a land mine.
...fuck it. He's just gonna go for it. Rude slips off his stool to stand next to her, quite a bit closer now. Rude can't help but loom, but he tries at least to not be intimidating about it. ]
That next drink probably won't help. [ With...everything. All the things he can sense, but not identify. Rude's voice is lower and softer now as he cocks his head towards the door. ] If you wanna keep getting to know each other...my place is nearby. I'll make you some coffee.
no subject
(And how can she blame him? Who wouldn't be scared off, when a request as simple as "tell me about yourself" rips her apart at the seams?)
Imagine her surprise, then, when he doesn't walk away, but instead stands right next to her, with an offer to get out of this place. It's not that he didn't notice - she knows he did in the way his voice softens, in the way he tells her another drink won't help - but rather that... well, that he's a halfway decent guy. A lot may have changed for her, but her instincts are still good.
The smile on her lips is genuine, and Sam gets to her feet too, and maybe she's a little too close to him, but she doesn't mind. ]
I'd like that, Rude.
no subject
Still...it's one of those times where being a decent guy, albeit a bit forceful, is the right move. He's confident about that. His large hand touches at her waist and stays there, indicating with the other to the bartender for the tab. ]
I'll pay up. Then we can get out of here.
[ The glimmer of a smirk crosses his face. This is a much better result than he'd expected for the night. Not just a girl to take home, but a genuinely interesting one. ]
no subject
Sounds good.
[ God, now that she's standing up, she can finally get a sense of the fact that he's huge - he has to have at least a foot on her, something that's simultaneously both insanely hot and comforting.
For Sam, comfort is a big deal. His attractiveness is the cherry on top.
While she waits for him to pay, she puts her book back into her backpack and sends Ashley a quick message, letting her know that she'll check in tomorrow afternoon. ]
no subject
Besides, this one? He likes. The transaction is quick, handing over a few folded bills to cover his drinks and the rest of hers. Rude just has to tuck his wallet back into his pocket and he's ready to go.
Once her backpack is secure, he sets a hand on the small of her back just below where her backpack hangs. They move out of the bar and into the much cooler night.
At times like this, he should probably talk. But he doesn't. Rude's comfortable enough with Sam already to be his usual silent self, lightly guiding her. Always touching her a little now, since things seem to be going so well. ]
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Funny, for a girl who at the beginning of the conversation was ready to bash his skull in with a barstool, if she had to.
She doesn't mind the silence. It stretches between them in a way that's surprisingly not uncomfortable. In the cold air, even with her jacket and scarf, she finds herself leaning into his side a little as they walk, their shoes on the paved ground and their breathing the only real sound between them. ]
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No reason he can't do all three. His arm slides around her waist with her continued closeness, letting their sides touch. That alone, enhanced by her scent and proximity, has his engines quickly starting to run.
The walk is short. Rude really does live only a couple of blocks from the bar. A single staircase takes them to his second-floor apartment; Rude lets go of her waist to unlock the door and usher her inside. ]
Make yourself at home.
[ It's an apartment fit for the man himself: clean, sparsely decorated, but comfortable. The only real luxuries are some workout equipment in a corner, a good leather couch and television, and a large bed visible through the open bedroom door. What few decorations he had seem vaguely Japanese - the closest he can find to Wutai around here. ]
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It's strange how an arm can represent so many things for her in a moment like this: strength and security come to her mind, but so too does the thought of how the muscles will flex and strain against the bed as he holds himself over her.
Sam grins. She might have had half a drink too many after all. But she's still just sober enough to know that drunk or not, she'd want this. The alcohol just gave her the courage to go through with it.
She smiles at him once he lets her inside, and moves around the main room, looking at the few decorations, the simplicity of the space. It's very him, she thinks, despite only knowing him for all of an hour.
It's also warmer than the bar or outside, and so Sam unwinds her scarf and takes off her faux-leather jacket, leaving them both draped over the couch for now. The black leggings and long-sleeved purple shirt she's wearing aren't exactly skimpy, but there's certainly less left to the imagination now. ]
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Rude makes an executive decision. He peels off his shirt entirely, returning to her side only in his jeans. In his own house, with someone he's about to become very close to, there's no need for his habitual sunglasses either. ]
Didn't want to sound like a sleaze at the bar, but...you're real easy on the eyes.
[ He puts his hands on her waist, looking down at her with definite interest. The height difference is even more apparent at a time like this, divested of shoes and jackets - and in his case, entirely topless. 'Coffee' is just a flimsy excuse to take her home, but he thinks she might need it. He can't see a situation where she gets any sleep tonight. ]
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