|
Post by THOMAS LULA ROTH on Apr 4, 2013 21:55:53 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480px,true][atrb=cellpadding,10px,true][atrb=cellspacing,10px,true][atrb=align,center]
tied to me tight SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL [/style] [style=font-size:11px; line-height:10px; margin-bottom:10px; margin-left:30px; padding-right:3px; text-align:justify; width:450; font: verdana;]As Tom got ready, he wondered just how long it had been since his last date. It hardly seemed to matter when it came to Thaddea (this was much different than anything he'd been through before), but he still allowed his thoughts to go there. He allowed himself to recall his younger days, when he had the whole bad boy thing going for him and the girls were totally into that. It amused him, now, how it was like back then. He never figured that he'd actually fall in love with anyone, because he had been that kind of guy. He was too focused on himself and what he could do, his trouble making and then his career. But now that he had what he wanted, things could easily be described as dull. He was "settled."
But he believed Thaddea had changed that already. Just by being a part of his life, as a matter of fact. He had someone to look at wonder what they were thinking, feeling. The man always wondered that with her. He still found her quite the enigma, a mystery that he would love to solve. After all, that's what he spent his time doing, it was how his mind worked. And all the same, he knew he would be okay with her keeping all the secrets she had. All he wanted to do was be around her, to have her company. Perhaps that's why he was looking forward to this date so much. He would be talking to her, finding out more about her. Plus, it was a date with the woman he loved. He told her he would be taking her to Northern Lights.
As a matter of fact, he had gotten flowers, had given them to Thaddea with a smile before going to the closet to help her get ready. "How about this one?" He asked, holding up a dress he pulled out near the back. It was black, elegant, and he believed it suited her well. So maybe he wasn't especially proficient in the area of dresses, but he knew what he liked. He also knew that he preferred when she wasn't wearing anything, but he didn't think he would be telling her that right now. Tom had did his best to be romantic,wearing a very nice suit, even a tie, for the special evening. There may not have been a limo, but that was because he felt he was already fancy enough with his Audi. Plus, he had yet to feel out what Thaddea was like when it came to relationships, what she preferred. It made him somewhat nervous. Would she rather it be lowkey or would like him to go all out? He supposed he could discover this through trial and error. And if he slipped up, he just hoped the woman wouldn't hold it against him.
TAGS: thad <3 SONG crash in you by dave matthews band, NOTES: aww! |
|
|
|
Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Apr 6, 2013 12:19:30 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:430px; width: 350px; height: 210px; overflow:auto; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-10px; padding-left:1px;] The moment Thomas had handed her the flowers, she’d immediately had to put them in water. She couldn’t simply leave them to sit out. Firstly, it was rude. Secondly, they could very well become damaged. And thirdly, well it was disorganized. She’d clutched them to her, barely given Thomas a smile. She had to take care of business first, then she could come back and show appreciation. She’d spun on her toe, moving lightly. She had nothing but a towel wrapped around her, her wet hair streaming down her back. She’d picked their best vase (one of course that she had bought). She’d filled it with water, positioned the flowers neatly on their kitchen counter. Then, every morning, as she rose to make him breakfast before work, she could see them and smile. She returned back upstairs, a satisfied smile on her lips. “Don’t worry, I put them in water.” He wouldn’t be worried, she knew he wouldn’t. For him, it was the gesture that counted. But it meant something to her. She was preserving them, incorporating them into her perfect home. She re-entered their shared bedroom just as he pulled an elegant black dress from the back of her closet.
She stopped, a little gasp of surprise on her lips. She moved towards him, lightly fingering the material. He didn’t recognize it. She knew he didn’t. And why would he? Honestly, it looked much different on the hanger than it had that night. She took the dress from him, raising her brows. “I had no idea we were in for such an elegant evening.” She gestured to the dress, “This is the dress I wore to the Dale’s Halloween party months ago.” She trailed her fingers lightly over it. At the time she’d thought of the dress as a foolishly extravagant purchase. She’d believed she would wear it for a night, become the black swan, then never again don the beautiful gown. But here was Thomas, suggesting it for their special night. She glanced towards the closet. Somewhere, in the back, she had tucked away the feathered swan mask she had worn that night. She didn’t know why she’d kept it – some infantile melodramatic impulse she assumed. She moved back towards the closet, her towel still secured tightly around her. She began rummaging through his side. She’d organized the closet – as with everything else. His clothing was precisely positioned, neat and orderly.
She brought out a suit with a flourish. It was nothing overly dressy. The pants were freshly ironed (her doing of course). He could pair it with a crisp white shirt, a smooth black tie. She hooked the ensemble over the door for him to admire. She had a smug sort of smile playing at the edges of her lips. “If you pick my clothes, you must be open to the same eventuality.” Even now, after all this time, she still spoke with a formal clip to her voice, an intellectual edge. Her mannerisms, the way she always stood just a little too straight – well those things would never go away. They were ingrained too deeply into what she had become.
[/style][/style]
|
|
|
Post by THOMAS LULA ROTH on Apr 9, 2013 21:15:42 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480px,true][atrb=cellpadding,10px,true][atrb=cellspacing,10px,true][atrb=align,center]
tied to me tight SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL [/style] [style=font-size:11px; line-height:10px; margin-bottom:10px; margin-left:30px; padding-right:3px; text-align:justify; width:450; font: verdana;]Tom found the smallest of things about Thaddea cute. Not in the way that one identifies a small child, but in the way that he wanted to smile whenever he saw her strong demeanor into something less guarded, more pure. Even in the reaction to his flowers, the look on her face was enough to get his heart speeding. It was just something small, he supposed, because everyone gave flowers. He needed to get more creative. Think outside the box. There was something he'd give her at dinner, a little surprise, though it couldn't be thought of as romantic. The man didn't believe that everything had to be inherently romantic about gift-giving, about showing someone how much you appreciated them. How much he appreciated Thaddea.
When she spoke of an elegant evening, Tom only gave her a mischievous little smile, soon flickering off his face to be replaced by a contemplative expression. Perhaps the worst person to be aiding another in the pursuit of fashion, he still put a great amount of energy into it. "Hmm," he said as he turned it over after she trailed her fingers down it, holding it by the top of the hanger. All he knew was that she had been wearing a black dress and she looked lovely in it. Weren't all black dresses the same? "I suppose that means you can't wear it again, right? You know, those dress rules." A smiled pulled up the corner of his mouth. He was curious. A few women had given him that before, told him that they couldn't wear the same thing twice. His own closet seemed shameful next to those of who he's dated.
He grinned as she pulled out a suit of his. The laugh that passed his lips as she spoke was gentle, so as not to disturb her in what she was saying. He hung the dress back up in favor of going over to his suit. "Fine choice. Haven't worn this since my grandmother's funeral." Though it was true, he didn't mind that there was some morbid attachment. He usually didn't wear blazers, but he wore ties for work. Going over to pull out one of his shirts, he told her, "Reservations are at seven thirty, I expect you to be prompt, madam." Though he spoke formerly, undressing in front of one's date would be identified as the most informal thing you could do. However, that's what he was currently doing, pulling off his shirt so he could replace it with the clean white one.
TAGS: thad <3 SONG crash in you by dave matthews band, NOTES: wow feels |
|
|
|
Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Apr 10, 2013 12:29:05 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:430px; width: 350px; height: 210px; overflow:auto; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-10px; padding-left:1px;] His words made her smile, a gentle tug of her lips. Hadn’t he learned, in their months of platonic (and then suddenly non-platonic) cohabitation, that she had no inclination to follow the stereotypical rules of womanhood? She had tried, for a time being. Truly she had. She understood the value of obeying the social norms. She had read books, studied psychology to a degree in her free time (and she had an abundance of free time). She’d watched the way women interacted, moved, spoke. But there were simply some rules she’d identified as foolish, unnecessary. One of these such rules was the apparent inability to wear the same outfit twice. In Thaddea’s opinion, that was a quick way to drain one’s bank account. How could one ever hope to own three-hundred and sixty five outfits? And that was only a single year. It was thousands of dollars, money Thaddea had no inclination of wasting. She’d always kept her pay secreted away, in the case she’d need to flee again. It hadn’t occurred to her that this rule of no double-wearing wasn’t literal. She tended to be a very literal person. With an elegant sweep, she plucked the dress from Thomas’ awkward features.
She set the hanger over the top of the door, so the dress fell perfectly to the floor, awaiting her dainty fingers to sweep the straps from the polished wood. She looked over her shoulder at Thomas, an amused smile around her lips. “I don’t have the finances to be so foolishly inclined in my choice of clothing.” Now she could have used much fewer, and less illustrious, words to say the same thing. But it was another habit she hadn’t seemed to drop. Instead, she moved to inspect the outfit she had chosen for him. The comment on his grandmother’s funeral didn’t perturb her. Perhaps a normal woman would have felt some awkwardness, stumbled an apology. But Thaddea wasn’t adept at reading these subtle cues. Instead she focused on the time. She glanced at the small watch on her wrist, then looked to him. “I’ll be ready at 7.” This was another compulsion of hers. She couldn’t help feeling that if she wasn’t thirty minutes early, she was late. She swept to their drawers, scanning her neatly organized undergarments. She’d been reserving (childishly) a special ensemble. It had been a foolish purchase, one that made heat rise to her cheeks. She quickly pulled out a black lace underpants, and a matching bra. They were revealing, slinky even. She plucked her dress and slipped into the bathroom, all the while heat flooding to her cheeks.
[/style][/style]
|
|
|
Post by THOMAS LULA ROTH on Apr 14, 2013 12:24:33 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480px,true][atrb=cellpadding,10px,true][atrb=cellspacing,10px,true][atrb=align,center]
tied to me tight SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL [/style] [style=font-size:11px; line-height:10px; margin-bottom:10px; margin-left:30px; padding-right:3px; text-align:justify; width:450; font: verdana;]Realizing that he would have taken Thaddea whichever way, womanly rituals he didn't understand or frugal shopper, it made him wonder just how much he could accept. Anything. He would have taken anything she'd given him, or at least that's what he thought in this moment. He refused to think that anything could go wrong, with the relationship so new. Fresh. It was a newborn swaddled in blankets, delicate and precious and in need of constant care. Strangely fragile, that's how it felt in his hands. But he was prepared for it, ready to care for something in a way that he hadn't cared for anything before.
He didn't pay as much attention as he should have when she went into the drawers, instead focused on knotting the tie around his neck. Then he pulled on his pants, socks, tied his shoes and he felt like a very handsome man. After checking himself in the mirror, when Thaddea had finished dressing as well, it was time to head to the restaurant. He spoke all about it on the way without actually dropping the name, just wanting her to get hyped about it. Good food, he said, and good service and the feeling that you were dining in high society. Like royalty in a palace, except in the bustling elemental town.
Though he didn't have incredible funds, he had enough to spend on a place like Northern Lights. Its atmospheric darkness, illuminated by lights hidden under dark lampshades and candles in glass vases. He told the maitre d' of the reservation, and they were seated near the back. Somewhere quiet, though the restaurant was free of the children most commonly found in restaurant chains. They were a lovely deterrent for a date. Or perhaps Tom was just an old grump, but he really did not want anything to distract him from the night he had with the woman he loved.
He adjusted his tie a bit before looking at the menu, prices not marked by a dollar sign. His attention was stolen quickly to fall on the beautiful woman seated across from him. "So did I do good?" he asked, a wide grin on his face. He looked like an eager puppy, just with a bright gleam in his eyes as if he had done something
TAGS: thad <3 SONG crash in you by dave matthews band, NOTES: wow feels |
|
|
|
Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Apr 15, 2013 16:31:54 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:430px; width: 350px; height: 210px; overflow:auto; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-10px; padding-left:1px;] She turned her back to the mirror. She didn’t want to see herself, her flaming cheeks, as she slipped on the lingerie. She shimmied into it as quickly as possible, attempting to retain some semblance of composure or pride. She managed neither. She kept her eyes downcast as she slipped the dress over. It nestled familiarly over her shoulders and hips, hanging down. She swept her hair up and away from her face, into an elaborate updo. She deftly pinned back lengths of hair, though deliberately left some down framing her face. When she had finished, she dubbed the presentation acceptable.
She emerged promptly at seven, as she had stated she would. She took Thomas’ proffered arm, allowed him to escort her to the car. Her gaze travelled sidelong, not sexually, simply observing his appearance. The suit fit nicely, as if each stitch had been sewn specifically for him. It fell handsomely, hinting subtly at the muscles she knew lurked beneath. She cleared her throat. She knew him, had known him in a physical sense. But tonight was their very first date, a night of classic courtship. She wanted to erase, no. Not erase exactly, she wished to revel in the newness of it.
A smile twitched onto her lips as they approached the table. Each in their dark attire, they seemed to be creatures of the shadows. Yet there was an elegance to the entire thing, a beautiful choreographed dance. She settled herself, her sole attention focused on Thomas (despite a toothily charming smile from the waiter). Eventually she gave a slight incline of her head, an amused smile softly playing across her features. “No,” she let the word hang in the air between them. “You’ve done well.” She couldn’t resist correcting him, though it was meant with her own brand of affection. Her fingers floated over the menu, her gaze scanning the list of dishes. But in truth she was in no hurry to order. She wanted to linger, to allow the night to go on. She plucked the smaller wine list from the center of the table, offering it to him between her slender fingers. “Choose wisely, Mr. Roth.” It was a little test, of sorts. Should he pick the most expensive wine, it would show a superficial economically concerned sort of man. The cheapest, and he was a frugal scrimper, didn’t consider her worth the extra pennies. She waited, her eyes trained on his.
[/style][/style]
|
|
|
Post by THOMAS LULA ROTH on Apr 23, 2013 12:54:31 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480px,true][atrb=cellpadding,10px,true][atrb=cellspacing,10px,true][atrb=align,center]
tied to me tight SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL [/style] [style=font-size:11px; line-height:10px; margin-bottom:10px; margin-left:30px; padding-right:3px; text-align:justify; width:450; font: verdana;]Tom couldn't think of a more perfect date, though it wasn't because of the location. It was a nice place, that was for sure, and it was why he had chosen the establishment. No, it was who he sat with that made it so wonderful. He felt a keen sense of pride as he sat with this woman, happy to just be sharing the same space as her. She was the type of person he couldn't imagine himself with in a million years. Classy and proper, sharp-witted and organized, in high school she'd have certainly looked the other way when she saw him in his leather jacket and coiffed hair. Now, he was her antithesis. Rumpled and lax, without much desire for organization, he had to think that she deserved better. And yet, he wanted her with him, and just him.
He rolled his eyes, though it was obvious he only had teasing intentions. Everything from Thaddea, he took it in good stride. He had never been the most personable of people, in fact he could easily be considered a misanthrope, but it was easy to be the best he could be with the woman sitting across from him. "All right, let's pack it up, you're already correcting my grammar," Tom said, pushing back his chair as if making to leave. He supposed a lot of people may think that Thad didn't have much of a sense of humor because of how serious she appeared most of the time, but he knew better than that. Even still, it pleased him to hear that she liked this place, that he hadn't aimed wrong when he went for the "nice restaurant" first date. He wanted it to be sweet. He wanted it to be cute. Like they were kids and this was their first date ever. It felt like that, to him.
He was distracted from the menu for a length of time, propping his elbow up on the table in what was considered very improper in this sort of establishment. He grinned at the words, though there was clearly something else in his eyes as candlelight flickered in them. "You look beautiful," he told her, wondering if he mentioned before or whether this was the sixtieth time he had to point this out to her. Like a smitten schoolboy, he couldn't easily turn his eyes away from this woman, looking like a goddess that had come to the mortal plane just to entertain him for a night, and how lucky he should be. After a moment, he managed to steer his eyes to the wine list and said, "Mmm...vintage Pinot Grigio?" It was one of their older wines, and he knew better than to order their house wine. "Unless you're feeling more red tonight, my dear." He took on an air of class, like a taster at a wine bar.
TAGS: thad <3 SONG crash in you by dave matthews band, NOTES: wow feels |
|
|
|
Post by THADDEA ARYN MELANTHA on Apr 23, 2013 15:07:49 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:430px; width: 350px; height: 210px; overflow:auto; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-10px; padding-left:1px;] She had a strange urge to reach across the table, take his hand in hers. Honestly, she’d seen it in movies. She knew, realistically, she couldn’t base her actions off of what she might have seen once in a movie. Films were idealistic. They presented the best possible option, logistically what people wanted – what they dreamed of. This made them utterly undependable. If she made the move, reached for his hand, next she’d be expecting something utterly foolish. What did she really hope for? In a movie, perhaps he would take her hand and lift her up and they would go dancing through the dining room as the tables vanished one by one. And of course some beautiful symphony music would play. But that didn’t happen. Tables didn’t vanish into mid-air. And she had never been the type of person to be utterly comfortable with being in the limelight. And truly, it wasn’t what she wanted – the dancing and whirling and dream-like state. She was a simpler sort of person. She preferred everything to be just so. But with Thomas, the little things were perfect – the way he teased her, the flowers. She didn’t need to dance, to have their date defy the laws of physics and reality.
A smile floated across her lips, coy and teasing. She didn’t even know that she had ever learned to be coy. But she’d been a teenage girl, brave and flirtatious, once upon a time. She was rusty, her moves disjointed and awkward. But it was coming back, slowly. It was filtering back to her, reminding her of who she had once been and what she could be. She smiled. “You can’t dangle such poor grammar in front of me in such a tantalizing manner and expect me not to correct it.” She grinned, her lips twisting, “That’s entrapment.” A few strands of hair had escaped from her carefully constructed bun. But she’d left them loose, on purpose. She’d once read that dangling hair was “sexy”. Apparently it framed the face in an “alluring manner” or some such thing. She’d reasoned she might as well try it. And from Thomas’ quiet grinning words, she assumed it had worked. She, Thaddea Aryn Melantha, actually blushed. She ducked her head, pushing a strand behind her ear. She couldn’t reply, couldn’t blurt out a receptive “You look handsome”. It wasn’t right. It would seem forced, a necessary social norm. She would wait, for her opportunity. Instead she nodded. She loved a sweet white wine before her dinner, something to sip as she ate her salad. “Let’s be daring.” Of course, Thaddea’s ideas of what was “daring” differed from most. “A white for now and a red for later?” Perhaps it was extravagant, foolish. She could be risking drunkenness. But tonight seemed like a night deserving of extravagance. And she had the money, carefully stashed paychecks she’d intended to use should she ever need to flee. But she didn’t need to run, not any more. And they deserved a celebration.
[/style][/style]
|
|