twelfthsong | — Sʜᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴏᴏᴋs ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ sᴏɴɢ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ

Love it. I probably bought one too many books for my suitcase to handle but I figure that's a future me problem.

[Worse case scenario he could just ship them back, he supposes. Or he could read them here and then send it off to a used bookstore. He held up the book for a brief moment before putting it back down.]

Good choice. Shall we? [He tilts his head towards the door, shoving his hands into his pockets.]

[ Clara regards him for a second, curious about him in a way she didn't expect. Prospective one-night stands didn't really lend themselves to knowing someone deeply. But she's lonely, and he's here, and once they're in the elevator, she looks up at him. ]

Don't think about it, just give me the first answer off the top of your head. Favorite book?

The Martian.

[He hadn't been given the luxury of stopping to think but it was one of the first books that came to mind. A beat later he follows up with a bit of a lilt to his voice.]

Choosing a favourite feels like having to pick a favourite person though. Tomorrow I might have a different answer. What about you?

It isn't a fair question. [ She concedes his point. As soon as he asks her, she has her reply read - the advantage of going second. ]

Little Women. She says it unapologetically. I read it every Christmas. But I love plenty more of them. [ The elevator doors open and Clara smiles up at him before walking out, leading the way to the bar. She has to use her keycard to get in - it's that exclusive - and she settles with him, ordering a gin and tonic with a twist of lime. Only then does she comment on his book of choice. ]

Science fiction then. The movie was rubbish but the book is amazing.

[The bar just like the rest of the hotel is fancy. He orders a scotch, settling back to people watch eyes flitting over to Clara every so often. He tells himself he isn't checking her out but it's hard not to when she carries herself with that confidence.]

Most movies don't do books justice. It's hard to contend with your own imagination.

[ He isn't the only one stealing glances and she knows it, but her attention is solely on him. They talk about small things, and even though it's standard 'getting to know you' fare, it's easy to talk to John, and Clara finds herself glad she invited him for a drink, even if he isn't the person she breaks her months-long (or was it over a year now?) dry spell with.

They're on a second drink, slowly sipping - her because when she asks him to come back upstairs, she doesn't want him to think she's drunk. ]

For a bloke from Scotland, you know you're not half bad company?

[ She smiles at him, only teasing, her dimples deep as her eyes dance in good humor at him. ]

Edited 2022-09-17 19:29 (UTC)

[Her dimples are charming and he can’t deny that. The longer he spends with her the more difficult he’s finding it to not be charmed.]

Ah well don’t tell everyone that. People are going to think we actually want to get along with everyone including the English, god forbid.

[He pauses again before continuing.] I’m just surprised that you’re not doing this with a friend. It’s a long time to go alone.

[ Clara's eyes shine for just a second with moisture before taking a sip of her drink to distract herself from the tightening in her chest. ]

Was gonna do this with my best friend. Name's Charlie. [ Was. ] She lived in Blackpool so I'd gone out to meet her at a restaurant, then we'd eat, go to hers and say bye to the kids and husband, then head to the airport. But she stood me up.

[ It's clear that something happened and Clara takes a deep breath, shaking her head. ] This story doesn't have a happy ending. Ask me something else.

[ She doesn't mean to drain her drink so quickly but she does and signals for another, but a water to go with it. ]

Edited 2022-09-18 01:38 (UTC)

[Well he definitely didn’t mean for that to happen. It doesn’t make him any less intrigued though. Quite the opposite.]

I’m sorry - I didn’t think it would be a sensitive topic.

[After a beat he notices the way she drains her drink and motions a head towards the door.]

Do you want to get a bite to eat?

Don't apologize, I thought I could get through it.

[ Clara offers a small smile. ] Room service or the restaurant? [ She doesn't mind either way, because she can't get a good read on if he's interested in her or not. Giving him more options seems like the only way to get an idea of where he's at. ]

Restaurant? I feel like part of the experience is the presentation.

[It isn’t that he’s not interested. He’s got eyes. But he’s also a foodie at heart. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also interested in checking out the restaurant itself.]

Not - that I don’t think your suite is nice it’s just… [He clears his throat.] I wouldn’t want to get food anywhere.

You wouldn't...want to get food anywhere? [ As far as excuses go, that's not a great one. But she's picking up on the fact that they'll have a nice, friendly dinner, and then go their separate ways. At which point she'll be back here.

Clara smiles though, and she hopes it's warm. ] Restaurant it is. I keep seeing the chef all over the internet and tv shows, so I'm hoping this isn't the world's worst supper at least.

It’s very white in your suite.

[Even he winces inwardly because that was…bad. He’s not the type to have one night stands, and he’s not assuming that that’s what she wants, but she’s definitely interested.

He slips out of the booth and holds an arm out to her trying to make light and move on from what had just happened.]

If the day that we’ve had is any indication I don’t think it’ll be the worst. Maybe mediocre but not the worst.

[ Clara easily slips her arm into his and the height difference is only less noticeable because of her heels - but she's still pocket-sized. ]

I'd say the day started looking up back on the road. At least for me. I think I'll be optimistic and have high hopes for the rest of the night.

[ Her gaze slides up to meet his, lips parting slightly before they're at the restaurant entrance, door being held open for them to walk through. When they're seated, she orders a glass of water with lemon for now, but the recommended wine with the main course. ]

[Her comment draws a bit of a sheepish smile from John.

The meal lives up to the expectations of a Michelin star restaurant and everything is going well until he goes to pour himself another glass of wine. It sloshes, completely missing the glass and spilling onto his t-shirt and jeans. If he looked underdressed for a Michelin star restaurant before he certainly looked it now. He closes his eyes briefly in frustration more at himself than anything else before giving Clara a bit of a closed lip smile.]

Not sure where this lands us on totaling our night up.

[ Clara winces a little in sympathy before an idea blossoms. ]

You could also use this hotel's laundry service. Put in the bag that comes with the room by midnight and they'll have it laundered and ready to go by 8 a.m. Just have to be staying in a room.

[ She takes a sip of her wine and looks right at John. ] Wouldn't want that to set in. Otherwise that really is gonna be a tally in the negative column.

[He normally wouldn't care about a t-shirt, but he's the type of person who had come to care about his clothes and their general upkeep. He'd hate to have to toss a shirt when there was a chance to save it.]

I know you offered but I could just get a room if it makes you uncomfortable. Unless all the usual stranger danger rules don't seem to apply to a fellow person from across the pond.

You picked me up on the side of the road, and we were alone in my room together. I think if you wanted to kill me, you could've by now.

[ She sips at her water. The room comes with a sofa-bed if you're uncomfortable. ] Although, I'm hoping it gets to stick to being a sofa.

[ Her eyes meet his so that he knows she's not teasing. She'd leave the table right now if he wanted, but she's attempting to pretend like she's not trying to break a very long drought. ]

I could just be biding my time. You shouldn't make a habit of bringing back strangers to your room.

[It's a little of his MI6 training talking. He realizes the irony as well - he should really take his own advice the conversation so far has been nothing but pleasant and the company has been probably more enjoyable than he'd like to admit.

He searches her face for a minute before - ]

Why don't we solve the t-shirt problem first.

[He says it like he doesn't mind the idea because he doesn't. Not really. They request the bill and John attempts to pay (but whether or not Clara lets him stands to be seen) before excusing himself to retrieve his bag from the car before agreeing to meet back at her room.]

Could be. We'll see if I actually open my door to you, John Smith. Might change my mind now that you've tried to teach me a lesson.

[ Clara insists on paying, the meal and drinks added to her hotel bill. Once she's in her room, she throws the balcony doors open so that the night air can drift. Instead of staying in her dress, she takes it off and stands nude in front of her suitcase to try and decide what she thinks a man like John might like. He seems non-fussy and even though his clothes aren't inexpensive, they are casual. He's comfortable.

Instead of anything with lace or silk that reveals just enough, she picks cotton shorts (granted, they're short) and a soft cotton t-shirt that has a faded University of West London logo on the front. But it's obvious she has nothing on beneath the top and it'll be a nice mystery for him to try and puzzle out - is she wearing anything beneath the shorts? She's barefoot, showing off fire-engine red toenails, and she's toned and tan from working outside in the sun so often and doing hard work with garden tools.

When he knocks, she decides to make him work for it with a soft smile before finally getting up and answering the door. She's makeup free, her hair is fully down, and she's even shorter with no shoes. ]

Are you here to murder me?

[Amusedly he looks down at her, noting how she's dressed down and her legs are now exposed. She was short, but that didn't mean that her legs weren't nice. At least from this angle it doesn't immediately look like he's checking her out.]

I hadn't made up my mind in the time I was gone. You still have a chance to send me away.

I don't think I'm gonna want to do that.

[ She steps aside to let him in, the sunset visible behind her. Reaching into the closet, she pulls out the complimentary dry cleaning bag and lets it swing off of her finger as she hands it over. ]

I thought we could have a drink on the balcony. The fancy minibar has mostly everything. I'm having one of the outrageously priced bottles of water, but I'll give you anything you want. [ She pauses a beat. ] Out of the fridge.

[John enters the room, pulling his boots off at the door out of habit before taking the dry cleaning back from her, eyes lingering on her gaze before eyes darting away, still uncertain about how to react to her advances. It's not unwelcome, it's just been a while.]

I should change first. For the record overpriced water is my favourite.

[He moves towards the bathroom and has to take a minute before shuffling through his bag to retrieve a spare shirt. The wine had splashed onto his jeans and he reluctantly throws them into the dry cleaning bag along with the t-shirt before grabbing a black pair of joggers. For some reason he feels like he has to explain the full change of clothing to her but he can't help but feel a little silly for it.]

It got on my jeans too.

[ Clara has their water and when he comes out of the bathroom, she raises an eyebrow. ]

I was there. And you stood up in front of me and everything. [ She's teasing, but her gaze is kind and when she hands him the water their fingers brush lightly. ]

Are you nervous, John? [ She turns to walk to the balcony as he answers, expecting he'll follow and snagging a book on her way, tossing it on the table outside casually and sinking into one of the lounge chairs. ]

Edited 2022-09-20 00:33 (UTC)

Yes well. Just in case.

[His jeans had been a darker wash after all. He closes the dry cleaning bag, hanging it on the doorknob outside before taking the water gratefully from her. The spark that jolts between their brief touch doesn't go unnoticed but his face doesn't betray anything.]

Why would I be nervous? You could be the one plotting, Clara. Female killers aren't common but they still exist.

[He cracks open the water bottle taking a deep drink from it before following her out towards the balcony and gazing out towards the crashing surf below.]

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