Impetus || Evelyn & Harry
She didn’t especially care for pizza, but she was curious about meeting the man who seemed to be so very eager to prove to her just what an extraordinary food pizza was. It wasn’t as though she had anything better to do, and getting off of Harris Island was good to do at least every now and again. She’d decided to dress nicely - the restaurant that the man had said they had to try didn’t seem remotely fancy, but Evelyn was never one for shying away from dressing nicely. So on went a red dress that flared out to stop mid-thigh and on went black tights and on went her three-inch heels. Evelyn didn’t mind that they made her nearly six feet tall; they were pretty and flattered her, and it wouldn’t matter what her height was because she was at least mostly certain that you didn’t eat pizza standing up.
At least not if the place held any semblance of civilization. Which, for all Evelyn knew, it might not, but perhaps it’d give her a pleasant surprise. She’d never gone out to pizza joints back in England -- her teenage years spent in the manor and at fancy events and on occasional walks through the city; more than one occasion at night when her father believed her to be sleeping peacefully in her incredibly soft bed.
But her room didn’t provide her with the nourishment that London at nighttime had. A drunk man trying to flirt with a girl who didn’t want it -- dealt with, the man left shivering on the pavement while Evelyn paid for a taxi to get the girl home safely. A few co-eds at University, drunk out of their minds and not paying attention when the petite blonde girl snuck into their dormitory behind them. Yet she’d always return to be awakened by her father in the morning, her hair spread expertly across her silk-covered pillows.
Because, according to him, she couldn’t be inhuman. She couldn’t be who she was.
He didn’t even know that she liked girls equally to how she liked boys.
Evelyn climbed into her car and turned it on before plugging in Luigi’s address into her phone and letting the semi-robotic voice guide her to the restaurant. She parked a block away and exited her car, fixing her hair in the driver’s window so that it fell neatly over her shoulders and fixed her lipstick -- a shade of gentle pink, no need to overdo it for the man who’s name she didn’t even know.
She entered the restaurant only to be hit with the smell of cheese and peppers and onions -- none of which were especially awful, even if they weren’t Evelyn’s ideal sort of palate. She glanced around the room before zeroing in on a man sitting at one of the tables all on his own. She made her way over to him -- even if this wasn’t the man she’d agreed to meet with (and she was fairly sure it was), if wasn’t like talking to him would do her any great harm.
“I’m Evelyn.” She said, her accent clear, “Did you perchance talk about pizza on the internet and agree to meet me here?” She raised an eyebrow and let her lips curve into a smirk.
