|Aedan feels a (fuadan) wrote in repose,|
@ 2020-02-17 23:22:00
|Entry tags:||*log, aedan byrne, hugh christian|
Aedan and Hugh: Dancing
Who: Aedan and Hugh
What: Dance lessons
Where: Hugh's place
When: The day after this
Warnings/Rating: Probably low.
It had been an excessively long time since he was last invited to anyone's domicile. The last time had been -- with Marta, but it was less of an invite and more of an emergency. And he hadn't gotten beyond the doorstep then at the very most. This was -- different, and it wasn't nerves that made his steps light, but anticipation. It was something akin to joy as he grabbed a bottle of wine -- something in the cellar, the label faded from age, dust on the bottle that he blew off before he climbed in his car.
Such gifts were no longer necessities, but some old things were still fondly remembered. He'd loaded up his iPod (iPods, fantastic) with music that would suit their lessons. Really, iTunes, youtube? Soundcloud. It was hard not to get lost on them all, and he frequently did on the long nights when there was nothing to do but follow recommendations to new songs to new recommendations until the sky turned pink and he had to find where he was going to sleep for the evening.
It had left him with quite a selection of music, some of which was uploaded onto the iPod he slipped into the back pocket of his dark grey slacks. He'd chosen a black jumper to go with it, sleek enough to be formal, without being so formal as to make anyone uncomfortable.
The drive to Hugh's house wasn't a long one, not from his own, and he knocked on the door precisely at 7 as they had agreed. That was one thing he had learned here -- everyone was unfathomably punctual, even going so far as to be early as if something better ever happened then. He thumbed the wax over the cork of the wine bottle.