[ Likewise, there's nothing about him that seems so affected — whatever interest he has in her skirts, accordingly, along the sharp edge of purpose, not dangerous unless she puts her hand out to it. (And she has already, hasn't she? She's the one who'd invited him here in the first place.)
He nods as he raises his own flute, the glasses clinking lightly in the otherwise quiet confines of the room, leaving behind the sound of fizz as they both drink. A first date — appropriate for the kinds of lingerie that decorate the walls around them only in a place like this, when the ability to quickly hook another's interest is more a necessity than an idle skill.
The silence drags out as he begins looking through the pieces on offer in earnest, a beat passing before he removes a bustier and its accompanying bikini from the wall. ]
Something simple, perhaps.
[ Spoken lightly, as though unaware of the fact that her trying them on would necessitate shedding the only garment she's wearing. ]
no subject
He nods as he raises his own flute, the glasses clinking lightly in the otherwise quiet confines of the room, leaving behind the sound of fizz as they both drink. A first date — appropriate for the kinds of lingerie that decorate the walls around them only in a place like this, when the ability to quickly hook another's interest is more a necessity than an idle skill.
The silence drags out as he begins looking through the pieces on offer in earnest, a beat passing before he removes a bustier and its accompanying bikini from the wall. ]
Something simple, perhaps.
[ Spoken lightly, as though unaware of the fact that her trying them on would necessitate shedding the only garment she's wearing. ]