Post by Regan Kelly on May 12, 2005 20:57:01 GMT -8
(co-authored by Carlo Giovanni.)
Seattle, Washington.
University Village Starbucks.
Wednesday, May 11th.
Despite the early evening hour on a weekday, it was full of an abundance of college students. They were cut into an equal number of those intently studying with the unmistakable buds of ipods in their ears, and the tables of tightly knit study groups, engaging in the loud and sophist arguments of upperclassmen from seminar courses.
Under a window were the unlikely pair. She, leaning forward intently on the table, decked out in as much leather as she is denim. He, cultured, quiet, and well dressed across from her. He held his hands cupped around his latte, and she smiled brightly to her companion, pushing glasses up her nose.
"Thank you for meeting me."
He smiled and placed his book bag aside. "No problem Regan, I love your company... an interesting location you picked."
"Well..." she shrugged, tilting her head to one side, giving him an impish look. "I've found that as long as you talk in theoreticals and with discretion, you can talk about a lot in public."
He nodded his agreement, "Of course," he took a sip of his chai latte, "and what I'll be discussing will be done with much discretion."
"Of course." She lost the impish look, eyes serious as she swallowed. "I've been wondering something."
They both approached the conversation at her comment. A few moments later he would slide a book across the table to her. Hesitant, she would exchange glances with him, before she placed it on the seat beside her.
The conversation was held eye to eye. They talked with few silences, pausing when he took a moment to sip his latte or straighten his tie. Over the course of the hour they would exchange thoughts and gestures in the intimate body language of close friends; almost never leaning back from one another, the conversation soft but animated, sometimes accompanied by chuckles, grins, or the widening of her eyes.
They eventually began to wind to a close, in their final poses. She was leaned close and against the table, he leaning and equally close, one elbow on the table top.
"I know it's a lot to take in, but I have my reasons for sharing this with you." He nodded at her, "do you have any questions?"
"No. Not at the moment."
"All right, I know I've shocked you a couple times tonight, but try to remember, everything I say is suspect."
Her lips twitched. "True."
"Just so you know, you won't be whacked for knowing any of this. It does however put you on the very brink of knowing more than you should." He adjusted his glasses, "I hope you don't mind me putting you into this situation. If you ever need my help, I'll be glad to give it to you."
She pursed her lips. "Why do I feel like you're not telling me all your reasons for letting me on this?"
He grinned, "Because I'm not telling you all of them."
Her lips curved into a smile, as equally rueful as it was sly. "Why not?"
He shrugged, "Because I'm currently wondering the same thing."
The slyness vanished, replaced with a look as puzzled and vulnerable as any she'd shown him, before she smoothed it over with a look down at the table.
"I see." She cleared her throat. "So, is there anything else to say?"
He scratched the back of his head, "Umm.... eventually, I know there is more, I just have to dig it out of myself. Sorry if that leaves you out on a limb."
"It's all right." She breathed outward, lifting her gaze to stare out the window at no fixed point. "I could probably get you started with lessons in the next week or two."
"That would be wonderful," he shifted in his seat, "I'm about done with my research."
"That's good." She paused. "I'm assuming so, anyway."
He went to respond, but thought better of it, "Let me know if you need anything. I'll make time to help you any day."
She tilted her head, giving him a puzzled look. "Why do you want to help me so much?"
"Because I like you....," his eyes shifted around the room, "personal reasons... "
She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not sure I follow, but I suppose that's all right."
"It's getting late," he looked at his watch pointedly, "and it is probably prudent that we head out."
"Of course. We can always talk at length later, Carlo."
Seattle, Washington.
University Village Starbucks.
Wednesday, May 11th.
Despite the early evening hour on a weekday, it was full of an abundance of college students. They were cut into an equal number of those intently studying with the unmistakable buds of ipods in their ears, and the tables of tightly knit study groups, engaging in the loud and sophist arguments of upperclassmen from seminar courses.
Under a window were the unlikely pair. She, leaning forward intently on the table, decked out in as much leather as she is denim. He, cultured, quiet, and well dressed across from her. He held his hands cupped around his latte, and she smiled brightly to her companion, pushing glasses up her nose.
"Thank you for meeting me."
He smiled and placed his book bag aside. "No problem Regan, I love your company... an interesting location you picked."
"Well..." she shrugged, tilting her head to one side, giving him an impish look. "I've found that as long as you talk in theoreticals and with discretion, you can talk about a lot in public."
He nodded his agreement, "Of course," he took a sip of his chai latte, "and what I'll be discussing will be done with much discretion."
"Of course." She lost the impish look, eyes serious as she swallowed. "I've been wondering something."
They both approached the conversation at her comment. A few moments later he would slide a book across the table to her. Hesitant, she would exchange glances with him, before she placed it on the seat beside her.
The conversation was held eye to eye. They talked with few silences, pausing when he took a moment to sip his latte or straighten his tie. Over the course of the hour they would exchange thoughts and gestures in the intimate body language of close friends; almost never leaning back from one another, the conversation soft but animated, sometimes accompanied by chuckles, grins, or the widening of her eyes.
They eventually began to wind to a close, in their final poses. She was leaned close and against the table, he leaning and equally close, one elbow on the table top.
"I know it's a lot to take in, but I have my reasons for sharing this with you." He nodded at her, "do you have any questions?"
"No. Not at the moment."
"All right, I know I've shocked you a couple times tonight, but try to remember, everything I say is suspect."
Her lips twitched. "True."
"Just so you know, you won't be whacked for knowing any of this. It does however put you on the very brink of knowing more than you should." He adjusted his glasses, "I hope you don't mind me putting you into this situation. If you ever need my help, I'll be glad to give it to you."
She pursed her lips. "Why do I feel like you're not telling me all your reasons for letting me on this?"
He grinned, "Because I'm not telling you all of them."
Her lips curved into a smile, as equally rueful as it was sly. "Why not?"
He shrugged, "Because I'm currently wondering the same thing."
The slyness vanished, replaced with a look as puzzled and vulnerable as any she'd shown him, before she smoothed it over with a look down at the table.
"I see." She cleared her throat. "So, is there anything else to say?"
He scratched the back of his head, "Umm.... eventually, I know there is more, I just have to dig it out of myself. Sorry if that leaves you out on a limb."
"It's all right." She breathed outward, lifting her gaze to stare out the window at no fixed point. "I could probably get you started with lessons in the next week or two."
"That would be wonderful," he shifted in his seat, "I'm about done with my research."
"That's good." She paused. "I'm assuming so, anyway."
He went to respond, but thought better of it, "Let me know if you need anything. I'll make time to help you any day."
She tilted her head, giving him a puzzled look. "Why do you want to help me so much?"
"Because I like you....," his eyes shifted around the room, "personal reasons... "
She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not sure I follow, but I suppose that's all right."
"It's getting late," he looked at his watch pointedly, "and it is probably prudent that we head out."
"Of course. We can always talk at length later, Carlo."
