Adrian Ivashkov 🧛🏼 (ivashkinator) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-01-01 00:23:00 |
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Sofia hadn’t really thought through the timing of her surprise visit to Elias and had been unnecessarily surprised when he’d mentioned his New Year’s Eve plans. She wasn’t necessarily the party type--in fact, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d actually gone out for the holiday--and so she had been thoroughly unprepared when he’d offered to let her tag along with him even though it was technically his first date with Caty. She’d almost turned down the offer and stayed in with a book, instead, but she was still committed to doing recon on this girl her brother was interested in and going to the town celebration seemed as good a place as any to make some observations. It had taken some creativity and a trip to the local consignment shop to put together an acceptable outfit for the evening, but Sofia was almost proud of how she’d cleaned up despite having only initially packed her usual, everyday wardrobe. When she wasn’t working at the auto shop, that almost entirely consisted of something akin to business casual. The party was swanky, she had to admit. It was a to-do that could almost rival what she imagined the parties must be like in Boston and she was beginning to question just how small town this small town really was. Unfortunately, Sofia imagined the part would be a lot more enjoyable if one were actually with someone. As it were, she’d been nursing the same cup of water all night while desperately wishing it was coffee, instead, and plastered against various walls while watching everyone else dance. She had to admit that, whenever she was watching the interactions between Elias and Caty, they looked sincerely happy to be in one another’s company, but assessing that whole situation could take up only so much of her time. With a sigh, Sofia pushed off from her current wall and headed toward the cash bar. Maybe she would trade her water for a Diet Coke. See if there were any hors d’oeuvres that seemed nutritionally sound. Live a little. The cash bar was always a good place to find Conor. He wasn’t here with a date, nor was he alone, exactly...Connor was keeping mixed company this New Year’s Eve. He would tell you he wasn’t trying to get pinned down, when in reality he was just trying to make out with as many girls as it would take in order not to think about his ex-girlfriend on this painfully romantic holiday. So far, his plan was utterly unsuccessful, not for lack of girls, but because he still felt distinctly miserable; perhaps more so as a result of his behavior, though that frankly had not occurred to him. Instead of reflecting on his life and choices, Connor decided to drown his sorrows in some more alcohol. Turning with a martini that was essentially pure vodka, Connor’s face lit up in genuine surprise to see Sofia again, the name popping into his muddled brain with alarming speed. His lips turned up into a bemused smile, “Lemme guess,” Connor said, his speech both more slurred and southern while under the influence, “Vodka and gin with low-fat ginger beer, lime juice, and two and a half mint leaves. Almond milk on the side,” he finished with a wink. Ever the watchful eye, Sofia had noticed Connor almost as soon as he’d begun turning around and, even as she wanted to use that recognition as her cue to slip off elsewhere, it also propelled her forward. She didn’t know how to react to him, though, no matter how…unique of an impression he’d left on her at the bakery a few days before. Part of her appreciated the joke, if only because it felt like a secret joke that only the pair of them were in on. Connor was quite obviously inebriated, though, and Sofia had never really been a fan of the pastime. Her mind was her most valuable tool and she didn’t like the idea of it being dulled in favor of lowered inhibitions. That and she had an insatiable need to be in control of herself at all times. “Mm, so close, but no,” she replied, pressing her lips together and holding her glass up to where he could see it. “Water, actually. Slightly chilled. A little condensation on the side.” And, then, lifting her index finger and thumb to cradle her chin in feigned thoughtfulness, she added. “Let me guess. Hm. One of...all of it?” If he was going to continue to mock her, even in a friendly manner (she chose to assume), it was only fair that she dish it back in lieu of letting herself be offended by it. Connor's expression twisted into a wider grin, in that slow sort of way a drunk person's did, as though everything was on a two second delay. But it was a fairly beaming, amused grin nonetheless, “Is there a particular temperature it should be at? 54, perhaps?” he asked, putting a random number out there, not even sure what temperature drinking water typically was. “Oh, no,” Connor said, taking a hearty gulp of his drink, “No, this is just one thing, just pure vodka, really,” he informed her, his eyes then doing a quick sweep of her outfit, head to toe, though the rapid eye motion made him feel suddenly dizzy. “You look beautiful,” he told her without pretense or even the faintest note of embarrassment, “But who are you supposed to be? It's a Hollywood theme.” Even watching someone else drink vodka like it was water made Sofia feel ill. It wasn't like she'd never tried to do the party thing before when her schoolmates had dragged her along to various functions the one year she'd been on campus. She could still remember the way the alcohol had burned, though, and how it could affect her in big ways. The memory in and of itself was enough to turn her off of what he was drinking and whatever had clearly come before. The way he so carelessly, and without even an attempt at hiding it, let his eyes travel over her did nothing to quell her unease. She blushed at his words, not exactly sure how to accept his inebriated compliment--or if she even could--and crossed her arms over her body as if she could hide it from his penetrating gaze. Though part of her knew her discomfort had little to do with his observation and more to do with the existence of compliments, in general, she took a small step away from him and the general vicinity of the bar. “I didn't realize that the theme was indicative of the dress code requirement,” Sofia replied, moving past the compliment completely. Her blush deepened. Of course she should have known that. If she'd actually discussed her visit with Elias before showing up, maybe she'd have been able to pack accordingly. Instead, she'd disrupted his plans, totally missed the point of the whole thing, and probably messed up the rest of his evening because he had to worry about taking her home instead of whatever he'd been planning on doing with his date. Honestly, she should have just stayed home. In Boston. This spiral of overthinking and overanalyzing herself into a hole wasn't an unusual occurrence. Clearing her throat and looking away, she said, “Anyway, I was just going to grab a Diet Coke and head back to the people I came with. I'm sure you have someone to get back to, too?” She thoroughly disliked the way her voice had added in the unwanted question mark without her permission. Connor lifted a shoulder, “I don't think it's required, I was just wondering if you were supposed to be someone specific,” he said. “It goes fine with the theme as is. Dramatic mono colors were very old Hollywood,” Connor said as though he was some sort of expert. Finishing the vodka, Connor gave himself a full turn, sliding gracefully on his dress shoes. He grinned, “I'm Sammy Davis Jr.,” he informed her; his suit was, indeed, old-fashioned, but the explanation was probably warranted. “The guys all kinda just wear suits, so. Doubt anyone can tell.” Listening, Connor shrugged again, “I'm here with some friends, but I doubt they're missing me too badly right now,” he said. “But if you have to go, then Happy New Year.” Sofia breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. So she hadn't totally messed up the New Year's Eve outfit, after all. She couldn't help the smile and small laugh that escaped her lips at Connor's twirl as she was actually quite fond of Sammy Davis Jr. herself. Whenever she and her father worked on cars together, they cycled through a collection of cassette tapes that he had been handed down from her grandfather and Sammy was a common occurrence for them. “Did you run into Mr. Bojangles on the way in?” she asked. Her arms fell back to her sides as she pulled herself out of her own head. “To be honest, my people probably aren't missing me too much, either. I'm here with my brother and he's got a date and he likes to dance, so they've been busy.” Connor laughed at the reference, “I wish,” he said, “You watch those old movies?” he asked, “I love them.” Leaning back against the bar, Connor flashed a lopsided grin, “Do you like to dance?” he asked. “You do?” Sofia asked, surprised. “I mean, yes. I do. I just assumed that was something primarily lost on our generation.” And, then, glancing once toward the dance floor, she said, “I like dancing, but I'm not very good at it. So I don't.” “Oh, yeah. Definitely. They’re much more artistic than movies nowadays--had to do more with less and there’s something beautiful about it, you know? Plus my dad and sisters and I like watching them,” Connor explained. “Well, I think liking it is really the main thing. Who cares if you’re good or not?” he asked, then after a beat. “Do you want to dance, anyway?” In a rare moment, Sofia admitted to herself that she may have been wrong about Connor. Sure, she was definitely right about the fact that he'd probably drank too much that night, and it wasn't unfair to draw similarities between him and other college-aged guys she'd encountered. But there was something to be said about someone who appreciated Sammy Davis Jr and saw the artistic value of old films. Cocking her head to the side, she studied him for a moment and then, against her better judgment, she said with a smile, “Sure.” Connor beamed, leading her out to the dance floor. He couldn’t really explain why he felt such a spark with Sofia; even when compared to his ex-girlfriend, she was profoundly different from the girls he usually went out with. Sofia was pretty, sure, but also very quirky, awkward, and cerebral. And yet, Connor found that it was those last few things that he liked best, even more so than the first. He also knew there was a certain danger here. This was a girl he could really fall for, if he let himself. But he wasn’t going to think about that now. For right now, Connor just moved in time to the music once they wedged their way onto the dance floor as a popular top 40s song played. He smiled as he watched Sofia move and sway to the beat; he danced close to her, but maintained a respectful distance, feeling like that was just the right thing to do. “You lied!” he told her, shouting a bit over the music. She hadn't expected it when she ran into Connor, or even when she'd first gotten here, but Sofia found herself actually enjoying herself. And, because she was enjoying herself, she found that she stopped thinking about what she was doing, how she was doing it, or who might be watching her, or what they might be thinking. Her typically busy brain had quieted. With a quick laugh, Sofia shrugged. “I guess, in the end, it's just mathematical. I'm not necessarily great at dancing, but I'm good at math. And, anyway, you're not so bad yourself.” Connor threw is head back with a laugh, which made the room sway a bit, “I have never heard someone say they were good at dancing because of math!” he said, but the way his eyes brightened with laughter were a sure sign that he appreciated her perspective, no matter how odd. “Well, I never said I was bad,” Connor pointed out with a wink. With a thumping bass, the DJ started hollering into the microphone, “ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. TIME FOR OUR. TWENTY. NINETEEN. TEN. MINUTE. COUNTDOOOOOWN.” Connor cringed, not at all sure why the DJ had to yell into a microphone, since that seemed to sort of defeat the purpose. “TEN!...NINE!...EIGHT!...SEVEN” The DJ yelled over the music. Connor rolled his eyes at Sofia, continuing to dance to the music that played underneath the DJ’s bellows. “SIX!” “There you are! Connor!” A model-esque blonde dressed like Marilyn Monroe shrieked, pushing and clawing her way over to him, pushing past Sofia in the meantime. Connor’s face dropped. “FIVE!” Other people were joining in the cacophony now, Connor’s eyes shifted uncomfortably between the blonde whose name he barely remembered and Sofia’s. “FOUR!” “I’ve been looking all over for you! How could you just leave me like that?” she asked, wobbling on her heels, obviously very drunk. “THREE!” Connor forced a grin. “Oh….uh...yeah….hey,” he said, unenthusiastically, hoping his “go away” vibes would make her do just that. “TWO!” The blonde grabbed Connor and began grinding up on him. He made an attempt to back up and extricate himself from this situation but then… “ONE!” The blond pulled Connor back into a messy, sloppy New Year’s kiss. Eyes wide, it took Connor a beat to pull back and say. “Hey, I’m really not interested--” She pouted, “Oh come on, it’s New Year’s! And that’s not what you said before…” Then, again, Sofia thought, catching her balance after having been shoved out of the way by a leggy blonde, maybe I was right. It took her just long enough to smooth down the front of her pants before the DJ finished his countdown and she caught sight of the blonde planting a big one on the boy Sofia has just let herself actually enjoy dancing with. With a look that was both hurt and daggers, Sofia said, “Friends, huh?” And then because she was far too humiliated to come up with a better thing to say, “I hope your babies turn into tiny cows.” And then she turned on her heel and left the dance floor, both desperately wanting to find Eli and go, and not wanting to mess up his midnight. Instead, she took the cover of the commotion to find her own way out. “Woah, woah, no one is having babies,” Connor protested, then groaned inwardly as Sofia stormed off. It was one thing for him to look like an idiot, he was used to that, but he didn’t want to hurt Sofia or make it seem like he was liar. With a bit of a struggle--the possible model kept grabbing at Connor’s waist--he finally managed to pull away and follow Sofia out of the crowd. “Look, I know that was bad, anyway...but I did not come here with her. I did come with my friends...I just...uh...met her on the dance floor earlier.” Sofia crossed her arms again, not turning to face the direction the voice came from. “It’s fine. I’ve known you for like five seconds so, please, just go back to your dance partner and don’t worry about it.” She didn’t understand why this bothered her so much. Maybe it was because she just hated being the butt of someone else’s joke, in general. Maybe. Either way, the last thing she really wanted was to have a witness to her embarrassment. Connor ran a hand through his hair, frowning, “Alright, I’ll leave you alone,” he promised. “I mean, I probably won’t go back over to her, but I will go and find my friends,” he took a step backward, then paused, “I just wanted to say--I mean--I was having a good time with you, so I’m sorry that...yeah, sorry it took that turn.” With a sigh, Sofia finally turned around and looked at Connor. “Like I said, it’s fine. Just next time you’ve got a girl waiting for you, maybe don’t go ask another girl to dance. It’s disrespectful to both girls. Anyway, it’s unlikely we’ll even run into each other again considering I’m just visiting, so...don’t worry about it.” “You're right,” he admitted. The blonde girl hadn't meant much to Connor, but that probably only proved Sofia's point--he'd been callous, if not to Sofia, then to the other girl. “Well...see you...or not, I guess. Well. Bye,” Connor fumbled, turning with an awkwardness that was not natural to him in the least, but his embarrassment just ran that deep. “Happy New Year, Connor,” Sofia replied after him because, when it came down to it, some part of her didn’t want him to walk away on the same note she’d walked away on. And then she, too, turned to leave. “Happy New Year, Sofia,” he said, turning over his shoulder in time to watch her leave. |