Post by KEITH CARDEW on Mar 7, 2020 14:29:58 GMT -5
that's when she caught
my eye. she turned to give me a wink,
that'd make a grown man cry.
my eye. she turned to give me a wink,
that'd make a grown man cry.
WORDS: 325 || TAGS: BAYLEIGH HOLMES
[attr="class","nthlftsybdytxt1"]Keith was sure that right about now, Raife would be pissing his pants in a fit of laughter. Keith tugged at the collar once more, knowing that he was over thinking things. He finally, reached up and pulled the clip-on tie off and jammed it into his jacket pocket. It was too much. Definitely too much. He undid the top few buttons thankful that he could breathe once more. His actions had collected the eyes of a few lunch goers, but that didn't bother Keith at all. He looked at his phone. No messages. He replaced it in his pocket and proceeded to take another sip of his water. A rather large slip that left the glass empty.
As he placed the glass on the counter, he noticed that the waiter took it as an invitation to approach the table once again. Keith wasn't nervous. It wasn't a date. It was just... Bayleigh... sitting in a chair... across from him... in the same room. He wasn't nervous. He was just carefully reassessing today's agenda.
Put him in the American desert trying to wrangle a thunderbird, and he was cool as a cucumber. Sit him down bloody and bruised beside a vampire and his nerves were like steal. So, why was lunch with a... friend so agitating. As the waiter poured the water to refill the glass, Keith spoke up. "Bring me something a little stronger," Keith stated. He started to order a bourbon, but thought better of it. A beer would have been nice, but what if Bayleigh wasn't a beer drinker. He winced at the thought of wine. It was never his first choice. "Um, bring me what they're having."
He gestured towards a couple a few tables over. "Bring me what they're having," said Keith oblivious to the brand or vintage. His hand gently nursed the refill glass until the reinforcements of wine returned. Perhaps something had come up at work for her.
As he placed the glass on the counter, he noticed that the waiter took it as an invitation to approach the table once again. Keith wasn't nervous. It wasn't a date. It was just... Bayleigh... sitting in a chair... across from him... in the same room. He wasn't nervous. He was just carefully reassessing today's agenda.
Put him in the American desert trying to wrangle a thunderbird, and he was cool as a cucumber. Sit him down bloody and bruised beside a vampire and his nerves were like steal. So, why was lunch with a... friend so agitating. As the waiter poured the water to refill the glass, Keith spoke up. "Bring me something a little stronger," Keith stated. He started to order a bourbon, but thought better of it. A beer would have been nice, but what if Bayleigh wasn't a beer drinker. He winced at the thought of wine. It was never his first choice. "Um, bring me what they're having."
He gestured towards a couple a few tables over. "Bring me what they're having," said Keith oblivious to the brand or vintage. His hand gently nursed the refill glass until the reinforcements of wine returned. Perhaps something had come up at work for her.
NOTES: NOTES HERE
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