Louis Donovan (strikethose) wrote in repose, @ 2018-01-11 19:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, louis donovan, ren solitaire |
log: a blind date - louis/ren
Who: Ren and Louis
What: A secret santa blind date.
Where: A theatre in the Capital.
There ought to be a sign somewhere in Louis's apartment above the antique store which counted the days since his last proper date. It should count them in bright red numbers, considering how long it had been. Now he could now flip the counter back to zero.
He wasn't sure if he fit all the requirements that a man he'd never met had requested, but he knew he met some. He knew he already liked the classic they were set to see, and he knew he had folded and unfolded the ticket in his pocket several dozen times in the last half hour.
He arrived early, nicely pressed despite a drizzle of freezing rain. His froth of blond curls was tamped down, and he stood under the awning of the theater in a long wool coat that made him seem even taller than he truly was. The whisper of untouched, untamed loves and hates passed by and snaked around him with the pedestrians, but it was a dull throb, not a roar.
He had been telling himself that he wouldn't be a disappointment for weeks now. There was nothing to worry about. There was hardly any chance of the kind of intimacy which might summon up his supernatural rider and create an absolute horrorshow. He should relax. He should think about the play, which he had wanted to see. Plus, it must be better to be presented with someone sane and pleasant than a random date from the internet, mustn't it?
He had spent a week before sending the tickets debating whether it was innately selfish to present himself as the gift. Should he have worked harder to find the best possible candidate for a total stranger? But he wasn't really worse than anyone else, even if he wasn't better. And yes - perhaps he did foster a tiny kernel of hope. It could be good, couldn't it?
He clasped the ticket in his pocket with long fingers, and he waited, surrounded by wafts of steam from the breath of sewer grates, stung with car exhaust, shrouded in the unacknowledged wants of passers-by.