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Deleted member 6060
When Sanda returned the paper, Lane took it quickly and delicately. He refolded it and sealed it away in his pocket as she fixed her outfit to sit down. He avoided eye contact at all times, reddening a little more when Sanda flared her skirt out behind her to sit down comfortably. Whatever you do, don't stare (he warned himself). Women hate it when you stare! They always assume you're undressing them with your eyes. It's not polite to stare! Be polite-!
He nearly missed her introduction. His gaze carefully fixated on her face, red eyes trained to look nowhere else.
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Hoshi," Lane replied. "My name is Lane Ruskin."
His voice was small and calculated, and he quickly looked away as she removed her boots to rub sore feet. His head was on fire while his hands dropped below freezing. Why was he freaking out? He didn't even know this woman. He was just being nice, right? So why was he so nervous? His gaze doubled back as he registered her spurt of Spanish and processed her next question. What kind of job was he looking for?
"Well..." Lane paused. Did he have an ideal job in mind? He wasn't sure, and couldn't convince himself there was anything he was really looking for in particular. A genuine and nervous pair of eyes met Sanda's gaze, unhindered by irrational fears, "I guess... I guess I'm looking for a job that will hire me. I don't really have a preference."
He smiled sheepishly, unsure how she would react. She was pretty, when he thought about it. No! Stop! Get those thoughts out of your head, right now! His eyes averted again. She was just being nice. She probably had a couple drinks, or something. No one ever wanted to talk to him on purpose. They only stared and talked about him, not to him. This was a fluke. The whole night was a fluke-
"Are you, uh... Joining the festivities?" It felt like a stupid question, but he hated dead air and awkwardness more than anything. Sooner or later she'd say goodbye, and he could slink home as usual. Like he wanted that to happen anyhow...
@Cowboy
He nearly missed her introduction. His gaze carefully fixated on her face, red eyes trained to look nowhere else.
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Hoshi," Lane replied. "My name is Lane Ruskin."
His voice was small and calculated, and he quickly looked away as she removed her boots to rub sore feet. His head was on fire while his hands dropped below freezing. Why was he freaking out? He didn't even know this woman. He was just being nice, right? So why was he so nervous? His gaze doubled back as he registered her spurt of Spanish and processed her next question. What kind of job was he looking for?
"Well..." Lane paused. Did he have an ideal job in mind? He wasn't sure, and couldn't convince himself there was anything he was really looking for in particular. A genuine and nervous pair of eyes met Sanda's gaze, unhindered by irrational fears, "I guess... I guess I'm looking for a job that will hire me. I don't really have a preference."
He smiled sheepishly, unsure how she would react. She was pretty, when he thought about it. No! Stop! Get those thoughts out of your head, right now! His eyes averted again. She was just being nice. She probably had a couple drinks, or something. No one ever wanted to talk to him on purpose. They only stared and talked about him, not to him. This was a fluke. The whole night was a fluke-
"Are you, uh... Joining the festivities?" It felt like a stupid question, but he hated dead air and awkwardness more than anything. Sooner or later she'd say goodbye, and he could slink home as usual. Like he wanted that to happen anyhow...
@Cowboy
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