|Dietre Henrich Abendroth (sonataind) wrote in repose,|
@ 2018-07-09 22:45:00
|Entry tags:||*log, dietre abendroth, misha bellamy|
The suggestion that he was preparing for a date did not sit well with Dietre. It was not wise to run into temptation. How easily he could get swept up in the idea of someone possibly loving him, that trembling, pathetically desperate hope… It would be shameful to allow himself to feel that way again. Shameful, and devastating when the inevitable realization that he did not mean as much to that person as they did to him hit him for the third time. It’d kill him, maybe. So it was better not to let his thoughts stray down that path, regardless of kisses. He and Oliver were friends, and friends spent time together. No need to look any further into it.
Yet there he was, waiting on the front stoop of Adrian’s apartment for the car coming to pick him up. Sieglinde sat on her haunches beside him, occasionally looking up at her master in confusion, wondering when their walk was going to start and why Dietre did not move forward, but too polite to drag him down the steps and get them started herself.
Misha’s offer to take him out shopping was surprising. They were friends, supposedly, but their contact had been limited to the internet, or passing run ins at the carnival. And most of those forum conversations seemed to end in an argument. Did Misha’s interest in pushing the ‘date’ idea have ulterior motives? Probably. But Dietre was in need of clothing more appropriate for painting and sneaking around at night, so he was willing to take advantage of the opportunity. He was quite resolute, however, in not wanting to look like an idiot. If Misha wanted to dress him up like a doll then he was going to be disappointed.
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other and trying not to sweat in the summer heat, he stared down the road and waited.