peteralcaeusâ:
âThink of it as a pre-date.â A total of six shots were neatly aligned on the wooden stool, filled with umber liquor that would surely have one of them slurring by the end. Since he built up the ultimate alcohol tolerance from his days in Yale, he wasnât too worried about the game. In fact, he easily predicted he would win. A buzz is settling in but itâs not due to the shots heâs been throwing back. No, itâs mostly being near Claire. The woman was utterly intoxicating in way that left all of his sense tingling, begging for more and more. His vision is altered and suddenly their surroundings seem nonexistent as this little world between them takes over. Truth is, itâs too distracting with her around to focus on winning anything. âAlright, I know a place not too far from here. Makes for good burgers, Iâll driveâ he offers, before looking up at her now, âif you want.â Peter slings his leather jacket over with ease, before quirking a brow as he heads for the door now watching her follow his lead. From his peripheral view, he catches Claire for a moment. Staring isnât quite the word for what she does, though it does fit the very definition. Her eyes rest on him, not unblinking but slowed; yet the effect is soft and curious. The lips give away her intention, not quite smiling but tilting as if they mean to. Peter isnât stupid, though. He doesnât dare to call her out for the momentary check out and opts to put out his cigarette. Her actions do give him perspective; sheâs not repulsed by him, but she is hesitant to admit any attraction. However small it maybe. So he silently vows to hold onto that look, that moment, for a rainy day. âLucky for you, weâve got a nice warm limo waiting for you,â He teased. He knew what it meant, and with the way things were headed Peter was scared heâd do something rash and thus kept his hands out of grabbing distance afraid of the unknown. The old junk of metal surprisingly blew out a sufficient amount heat, enough to defrost his fingers from the bellowing brisk outside. Even on the deepest of winter days he could feel Claireâs warmth like an old duffel coat, friendly and soft. Itâs better than any man made heater, gentler than anything heâs ever known. âAny special requests?â he motions to the radio.Â
âA pre-date?â she asked, a small chuckle to her words as she looked over to the blond. So would there be a real date in store for them later? Claire didnât want to me too assumptive, so she just took it at face value and was left with a stupid grin on her lips as a prospect of where this was all leading. Sheâd never had too much of a romantic life. Even in college, she had only dated three men, and neither lasted more than a few months. Even in her adulthood, her head was more focused on her career, though the world seemed to be put on hold when Peter walked through the door. She knew that going somewhere with a near complete stranger was something that a woman shouldnât do so easily, but there was something about him. Something between the both of them that made her crave more of his words and his company. More or those icy eyes looking straight into hers as they continued teasing each other from across the pool table. Her world had been so black and white, so boring in a sense, and Peterâs offer was too good to refuse. So with a nod, she set aside the pool stick and followed along as he slides that jacket on and makes his way to the door so effortlessly. Warm amber eyes take him in, entranced with how cooly he moved and spoke. It was an infatuation, but there was also more to it. âBurgers sound good,â Claire manages as she follows him outside and to that beat up truck of his. Fitting, and still endearing at the same time. The small journey to his car still managed to make Claire cold enough to walk quickly to the passengerâs side - - getting in and moving closer to the center to be near Peter as he starts the engine. âHmm... Letâs go back to some older stuff, how do you feel about Velvet Underground?â she asks, almost melting into the seat of his car as content as ever. The air had a comforting scent to it - - then again, it made sense as it was his car. So while going somewhere with a man sheâd only known for an hour wasnât exactly the best judgment to some, Claire only wanted to spend more time with him. To know him and hear him say her name if only just once more. âSo...â she started, biting down on her bottom lip as she glanced over to him in the driverâs seat. âPre-date, huh?â












