Start of Time // Rancy
Yancy Becket has had plenty of romantic interests in his life. Not plenty but enough for him. He’d like to blame the fact that his brother scares off at least half of them by acting like a puppy his entire life. Yancy couldn’t count how many times he’s been left standing, looking after a potential date, as his brother’s asking him when they can go with an expectant grin on his face. He’s still trying to figure out if he does it on purpose or not. Half of the other time, however? Yeah, he might be good at turning girls away all by himself. He’s good at the smooth part; he’s a people person when he’s not in his bed, snoring life away. But, well, there’s the whole ‘interesting’ part and Yancy isn’t good at laying that out on the table right away.
And then there’s times like these, when he manages to make the worst possible first impression known to man. Spilling coffee is a new one, actually. He hasn’t done that to anyone. (Well, he might have done it once to his father when he was twelve; it had been his dad’s own coffee and he swore at their mother and he ‘accidentally’ knocked the cup over.) Contrary to everyone’s belief, Yancy can be pretty graceful. He manages not to fall out of bed, slip in the shower, poke himself in the eye with a comb, knock over his sister when she comes dashing through the hallways. Yeah, Yancy’s graceful. Probably not as great as Raleigh, who got the dance lessons when they were younger, but Yancy can get around. So spilling a hot drink all over a rather attractive person is the last thing he ever expected of himself. And how the universe managed to screw him the fuck over because, wow, she’s beautiful. Not in the attractive way. She glances up at him and moves with a certain agility that he’s never seen before. Yancy’s suddenly wondering why he’s picking up on these things anyway. Because, yeah, that makes him a little weird. Especially since he basically ruined her morning. Which he’s not likely to forget. God, he’s such a damn idiot. But then she’s dabbing at his own sweater and he doesn’t move at all. His eyes can’t leave her (not like they could from the start) and he’s very, very still. It takes him a few moments before he realizes she hadn’t moved to take care of her own shirt but instead trying to wipe off the mess he had made on himself in the process. Oh, that’s right, he got coffee on himself too. He doesn’t really care, honestly. Because he’s had this sweater for years and getting rid of it is probably the best thing to happen to him for the month. But she’s—-well, Yancy feels a little bit worse about the whole thing. And then she smiles. So it’s his heart that stops this time. She’s speaking to him and he raises his eyebrows on instinct to appear that he’s registering what she’s saying and, yeah, he sort of is but he’s picking up strange things. Like the fact that she’s certainly from Russia but she must have been in Washington for awhile now because she’s got to know about the culture if she speaks that way. Or how much more smoother she’s being with the whole fact that she just got coffee spilled all over her. And her style of dress and, fuck, what’s wrong with him? This is what you would call a creeper. Or something along those lines. Definitely along those lines. God help him. Or whatever deity that had been assigned to look over him. Her question jolts him from staring (fuck, he was staring too long, nice) and he’s glancing wildly around. ”Uh—-yeah, actually.” He takes a large step away from her (and of course he had been standing too close, at least he’s keeping his cool and not fumbling over his words or freaking out), looking for Choi’s little shop. He turns back to her and offers a smile that he hopes comes off as friendly enough and not screaming douchebag. ”—-My friend has a place over there. A coffee shop. There’s a restroom.” He’s wincing now, guilt still pretty clear and the calmity seems to be slipping just a bit more. ”Look, I really am sorry. I just—wow, I’m so sorry. Anything I could do? Show you there, buy you a new shirt?” He’s more joking at that part but a part of him is a bit serious. And he’s not sure why. Probably the guilt talking. ”God, I’m sorry, here let me show you the coffee shop. I mean, if you’d like to go, of course.” Okay, so now he’s not Mr. Smooth. Looks like he doesn’t need Raleigh to make him look bad after all.
Still dabbing at his sweater while biting her lower lip (a habit when she concentrating) Riley ignored the now dulling stinging sensation of coffee on her sweater, for some reason she was more concerned with him. If she wasn’t so focused, Riley would have noticed the way his body tensed, the way his eyes were so focused on her, but she was so determined to rid his sweater of the coffee that she took no notice. Actually she knew a great way to rid fabrics of stains (and she was completely sure that his sweater and hers were stained) something she learned from her mother and when you needed to get rid of blood from your pointe because you can’t afford new ones it comes in handy; but again she was twenty minutes from her apartment and well, who said she wanted to leave his company so soon?
The chilly Washington air blew by and tugged Riley’s hair along with it, her auburn curls freeing themselves from the fold of her sweater and flowing out behind her as she looked up at the man, his face completely blank and lips parted as if words were hanging there waiting to be spoken. It would have been off-putting if he weren’t so cute, with his ruffled hair and the sun peaking through the clouds and creating a glow off of his skin. No wonder she can feel a smile slowly spreading over her face again, the warmth of the sun present in her smile. In truth, Riley hasn’t been one for boyfriends or any dating in general. With school and dance taking up most of her attention she rarely stopped and looked at the people around her. But when one crashes into you with a cup of coffee, you can’t help but to take notice, and she had a feeling she would be glad for this twist of fate.
Suddenly he takes a step back and she tilts her head as words begin streaming from his lips, coming out rushed and fumbled as he looks over his shoulder. She is a little stunned for a moment; the man went from calm, to silent, to frantic in a matter of about two minutes. But then he smiles and she smiles too, finding him more adorable as time went on. Riley glances down at her own sweater, noting the stinging is now gone and is replaced with a chill, before she raises and drops her arms in a form of defeat, knowing that the sweater was a lost cause now. She really liked this sweater.
“It okay, really it fine. You no need to buy me another sweater, I have in two different colors”, she chuckled, tossing the napkin in a trash bin right next to them. Bending down she snagged her bag from the ground, tossing it on her shoulder before nodding at him. “Of course, I’d love to go. Lead the way-?”, she ended with an upturn of her voice, questioning for his name. Forward she begins to walk, standing on her tip toes to take note of the coffee shop he glanced at before. “Oh. That’s where I was heading actually”, she breathed out as she turned toward him, the peaking sunlight creating a glow on her hair.
Her bag is slightly heavy due to the fact that her text books are still piled inside, but her balance isn’t swayed nor is her effortless walk. Down the street they begin and she finds herself glancing at him every so often, a reassuring smile present on her face.
“I hope you are no late for something?”, she asked, realizing that he was in fact going somewhere before they crashed into each other. Was there a part of her hoping that he wasn’t, that maybe they could talk in the coffee shop? Yes. Would she tell him that? Absolutely not. She would settle for warm smiles that weren’t forced and maybe she could buy him a cup of coffee to make up for the one spilled on the concrete.
People pass them on the street but they aren’t given a second glance or thought, Riley is more focused on the tall man next to her with bed head and a cute smile.
