Alex laughed and gave Fallon a hearty pat on the back. “Damn, girl, you got it bad for him,” she said. Love was cute, it was just something Alex wasn’t familiar with. She tilted her head at Fallon’s comment about not freaking out. “What’s to freak about, dude? The kids love you, you love him, he seems to love you. I feel like that’s the best case scenario?”
“No shit! You were like a mini Barbara Walters! Or some journalist person, I dunno the news really,” Alex replied, waving a hand. She grew up in the woods outside of small town. Her toys and hobbies involved makeshift play-weapons out of sticks and wrestling her brothers. Alex never really explored her talents or skills, mainly because she didn’t know about the ones out there in the world. Her parents were blue collar workers who kept the kids out of society. When Alex finally broke into the real world, she quickly climbed the ladder of drinking games and partying. Those were the skills she gained. She ordered two rounds of Cherry Jello shots for her and Fallon each, stacking the cups. “Alrighty, these two are for you,” she sang, handing two to Fallon. “You’ve at least done these, right? You know the scoop and suck, right?”
“Yeah, I think I do.” She admitted with a crinkle of her nose, the thought making her mildly nervous. There was a lot that could go wrong, she knew that, and she knew that a lot of what could go wrong rested on her shoulders. “I - I mean, yeah, I just - I don’t know. I’ve never been much good at relationships or anything. I’m kind of a flight risk.” She admitted, feeling better for having said it.
She giggled at the blonde’s words, feeling warm at the praise. She didn’t take compliments very well - it was a part of her awkwardness that she never had, and probably never would, grow out of. She had always loved her work as a journalist, and she magic that she used so easily in written words and the pictures that went along with them. She could save lives - she knew that, and though she didn’t think that she was worthy of any amount of praise or admiration, she hoped, deep in her heart, that everything she did was capable of changing the world. “Oh, boy.” She said as she accepted the shots, setting one down so that she could open the other. “I have. Once. Maybe.” She admitted with a laugh.