Who: Malcolm Baddock and Romilda Vane When: 4 November, 2001. Evening/Night Where: London. Clubbing. What: Malcolm and Romilda go out. On a date. Warnings: TBA Rating: TBA Status: In Progress
Dinner had gone by quickly. At least in Malcolm's mind it had. Quickly, yet strangely awkward and just a little painful. It wasn't that the company was bad. He just didn't know what the hell to do. He'd never been on an actual date with a girl, and while his mum (and even sister) had certainly taught him manners and how to behave on a date, that didn't make the whole thing easier to him. If anything, it made it harder. He had way too much to remember, like opening the doors, pulling out her chair, paying for dinner, trying to be a good listener while also being a good conversationalist. How anyone managed to date was beyond him. It was much easier to go out as friends. There was just so little pressure that way. Still, he had managed not to completely mess things up yet, even if he hadn't been the most stimulating conversationalist during dinner. But then, so far, he hadn't gotten dumped, so that had to be something, though what he couldn't figure out.
After paying for dinner, Malcolm held the door open for Romilda, chewing his lip a little. She looked nice. He wondered if he thought she looked the same kind of nice that Daphne Greengrass had looked earlier that day or if it was a different kind of nice because he knew her, but he couldn't tell. Was there normally a difference? He knew there was a difference between a girl looking nice to him and a boy looking nice to him, but he couldn't be sure if there was one between girls to him, and he silently berated himself for not knowing if there was a difference. He should know this, and yet he didn't, and worse still (in his mind, anyway), he thought he ought to know this and yet he didn't. It all made no sense, and he started to think that maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this date until he could get his brain working properly again. Not that he could do anything about it now, and he wasn't about to be an asshole and bail, but the thought still crossed his mind.
"I don't know the London night life that well, so I'm not really sure about which clubs are good, especially on short notice, but if you know of one you like, we can go there," he said, feeling slightly embarrassed that he really hadn't given this whole thing much thought. He added having a place in mind to the list of things he needed to remember when dating, especially if he was the one to suggest the activities. At the least he wouldn't look completely and total incompetent, which he was convinced is exactly what he appeared to be just then.