Status: in progress.
On Letting Go
o4
She ran her fingers through soapy hair, thinking about previous first dates while she showered. Usually the guy had good intentions, but she'd had more than a few dates turn into a disaster. It was inevitable, she figured. That soul-mate/true love shit never happens, especially not to her. But she wasn't worried, she never had been. Men were welcome in her life, but were not necessary for her happiness or well-being. Some girls go through life with a picture of their perfect guy embedded into their minds, just searching for that person. Things like that just weren't worth Cora's time. She rinsed herself off, then stepped out of the steamy shower and wrapped a fluffy towel around her small body. After dressing herself and applying makeup, she checked the time, grabbed her purse, and left the apartment with no expectations.
He paced around his loft, mentally counting off the things that he needed to do. Shower? done. Attire? Wrinkle free and currently on his body. wallet? In his pocket and filled with enough money to pay for the whole dinner bill, which is what he intended to do. Once Rick felt everything was in place, he walked out of the front door with his stomach tied in knots.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Pieces of chestnut brown hair framed her face in messy waves, flowing down the curve of her neck so delicately. She flashed a small smile, friendly and casual. If you looked closely, however, you would discover the bit of wariness behind it. Rick had no idea of her past, and she had no idea of his. There was no knowledge of past relationships, no way to know the pain the other may have experienced. But through that, this is were they ended up, sitting at a table in a dimly lit restaurant, sharing words.
"So are you from Detroit?" she asked. He didn't seem like a Michigan native, something about him. His voice tinged with the slight accent of somewhere away from here. "New Jersey", he replied, "but I'm here for work". Her eyebrow raised slightly. "Jersey boy, huh?". The right side of his mouth curved up into a half-smile. "Yeah, born and raised. How about you, Michigan girl?". "How do you know i was from here? I could be from California for all you know. I could have been born in Canada and shipped over the border with nothing but a passport and a bottle of maple syrup".
At this, he gave a hearty laugh. "Quite the imagination", he observed with an amused look on his face. "I've been in Michigan long enough to recognize the accent". She scoffed. "Yeah right, Jersey boy. I don't have an accent". "Really? I'm pretty sure that's a Michigan accent I hear". "No way!", she replied. "Yes you do! You pronounce your T's like D's." She contemplated that for a second before exclaiming "Better than a Jersey accent!". He grinned at her. "Hey, watch it! You'll only hear my Jersey accent when I have too much to drink, which isn't often". "Guess i'll have to get you drunk, huh?", she said slyly with a smirk on her face. He tried to restrain the blush that crept up his cheeks. "Guess so".
He paced around his loft, mentally counting off the things that he needed to do. Shower? done. Attire? Wrinkle free and currently on his body. wallet? In his pocket and filled with enough money to pay for the whole dinner bill, which is what he intended to do. Once Rick felt everything was in place, he walked out of the front door with his stomach tied in knots.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Pieces of chestnut brown hair framed her face in messy waves, flowing down the curve of her neck so delicately. She flashed a small smile, friendly and casual. If you looked closely, however, you would discover the bit of wariness behind it. Rick had no idea of her past, and she had no idea of his. There was no knowledge of past relationships, no way to know the pain the other may have experienced. But through that, this is were they ended up, sitting at a table in a dimly lit restaurant, sharing words.
"So are you from Detroit?" she asked. He didn't seem like a Michigan native, something about him. His voice tinged with the slight accent of somewhere away from here. "New Jersey", he replied, "but I'm here for work". Her eyebrow raised slightly. "Jersey boy, huh?". The right side of his mouth curved up into a half-smile. "Yeah, born and raised. How about you, Michigan girl?". "How do you know i was from here? I could be from California for all you know. I could have been born in Canada and shipped over the border with nothing but a passport and a bottle of maple syrup".
At this, he gave a hearty laugh. "Quite the imagination", he observed with an amused look on his face. "I've been in Michigan long enough to recognize the accent". She scoffed. "Yeah right, Jersey boy. I don't have an accent". "Really? I'm pretty sure that's a Michigan accent I hear". "No way!", she replied. "Yes you do! You pronounce your T's like D's." She contemplated that for a second before exclaiming "Better than a Jersey accent!". He grinned at her. "Hey, watch it! You'll only hear my Jersey accent when I have too much to drink, which isn't often". "Guess i'll have to get you drunk, huh?", she said slyly with a smirk on her face. He tried to restrain the blush that crept up his cheeks. "Guess so".
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I think i'm gonna start making the chapters a bit longer, they seem too short. I just thought this would be a good place to end.9 SUBSCRIBERS? I love each and every one of you guys, thanks so much. *virtual hugs for everyone*. But yeah, i'm going a little crazy this offseason. No baseball makes for a very bored Nadia.
I'd love to hear everyone's feedback, what you'd like to see more of in the story, i'm open to suggestions and criticism. So yeah, leave me a comment if you'd like, it'd be appreciated.
Fun Fact of the day: Rick's full name is Frederick Alfred Porcello III. Poor thing, that's an unfortunate amount of Freds in one name.