The intense altitudes that his blood pressure elevated towards during tonight’s developments, was the sole reason he wanted nothing more than to head home, ingest a spoonful of melatonin, and fall into a deep slumber. Preferably until about 4PM. A frame of mind so dissimilar from the state he usually finds himself within. But it’s comical, really. How promptly a disposition can modify when a certain something ― or someone ― enters fortuitously into the equation. Inexorably his blueprint did not involve a deviation to a semi-stranger’s home for some after midnight pancakes, yet there he was. Foot heavy on the gas pedal ― driving down the central boulevard to Simone Jones’ place of residence.
After a cursory knock on the timber door, Hudson then became all too aware of his accoutrement; outfit definitely epitomizing that of a gas station looter. But before his hands could ascend to remove the obsidian hood from over his head, the dainty dark-haired lady had already come to the door. Crooked smile being displayed as his hues cascaded to meet her own. ❛ Oh ― do not be fooled. I looked as if I had decided to take a swim ― fully clothed ― about an hour ago. ❜ Is all he offered in return before stepping through the threshold. Shutting the door behind him. ❛ So if I happen to smell like several wet socks ― please don’t hold it against me. ❜ No part of him was eager to revisit the episode that played itself out just an hour ago. So her inquiry incited a bona fide recoil in antiphon. Head shake ensuing after. ❛ Crazy ― is an incredibly nice way to sum up the night, yeah. Would be down to never have to discuss it again, actually? ❜ A delicate smile then paints itself onto the man’s asperous visage as he observes the woman’s socks. Orbs darting between her honey hues & the latest discovery. ❛ How adorable can you get? ❜ It was a lame attempt at deviating the course of the conversation, yes. But he actually was quite the fan of her choice in attire. The smile on his lips utterly genuine.
𝐆𝐎𝐃, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 and going on her first date for the first time again. All nerves and excitement and anxiety: a great combination if there ever was one. Because... this was a date, right? Well, Hudson had called her babe, something which had ignited a furious blush over her cheeks, but maybe he called all his friends babe? But then, he’d said he did want to spend time with her... and it was almost two in the morning. Simone adored all her friends, but she had to admit, as much as she liked pancakes, there were little of her friend group who she’d willingly skip sleep for at two in the morning. No, this wasn’t all in her head, right?
She smiles, trying to keep it from bordering on goofy, and mentions that he probably had looked all cute, actually. ❝ Like a Labrador, or something. God. I’d love to have a dog. I’d be so crap at taking care of it, though. One day, maybe. ❞ Noting the way Hudson seems to shy away from talking about... whatever had happened between him and ex, she readily agrees. Good thing, probably: talking about exes on what might be a date is never a good idea. She’s distracted by his compliment, suddenly feeling so naked, as if there’s nothing more intimate than seeing someone in their socks. Maybe there’s truth in that. If there is, she’s feeling it, as she scuffs at the floor in an “aw, shucks!” manner that fails to hide her sudden onslaught of shyness.
❝ Um, so... pancakes! ❞ It’s her own apartment, obviously, which makes her stumbling backwards into the center island that more embarrassing. The open floor plan makes it easy to cross from room to room. ❝ I meant to do that. Obviously just showing you the dangers... of walking backwards! ❞ A cough, and a hidden smile as she ducks her head. Cabinets open and close as she rifles for the ingredients. ❝ Oh shoot, why do I always put the maple syrup at the top of the shelf like a moron? ❞ Onto her tip-toes she pushes, straining to grab the top of the glass container. ❝ Just... one... more... ugh! ❞
