davies; ROGER (rgrd) wrote in reduxpitch, @ 2016-10-15 15:10:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !thread, character: daphne greengrass, character: roger davies |
who ? daphne greengrass and roger davies
when ? late saturday afternoon/early evening, 15th october
where ? cardiff
what ? it’s daphne’s birthday!
status ? complete
Despite the fact that Roger wasn’t all that sure why the fact that Daphne liked Pride and Prejudice had stuck in his memory, he was still rather pleased with himself for taking her to see the play version of the story. It helped, he thought throughout the performance, that the play was quite good. Roger did not care much for theatre, but he had grown up the right level of posh to have been educated about the theatre from a young age. The story, as far as Roger was concerned, was a touch too romantic for his liking, but he did somewhat sympathise with Mr Darcy and his evident commitment-phobia. Of course, he also seemed like an asshole, so there was that.
When the play wrapped and they emerged from the theatre, Roger gave Daphne a smile. “I hope your birthday present measures up to expectations,” he told her. “But if it doesn’t,” Roger added. “I hope pizza might fix that,” he said before starting to lead them towards the restaurant he’d picked for early-dinner. It wasn’t a far walk away, Roger didn’t think, mostly leading them through a park which was not unpleasant. “Do you feel terribly old now?” Roger asked glancing at Daphne with a smile.
--
Daphne had been thrilled with the play. She sat watching it with wide eyes and a brightness in them that was perhaps too childlike. She'd always loved the romantic stories, maybe because every little girl — or at least most of them, herself included — wanted to find themselves in part of some great love affair that swept them away and off their feet. She didn't love the story any less seeing it as a play. If anything, she loved it more. She was also quite taken by the fact that Roger had even remembered that she loved Pride and Prejudice. It had been such a tiny detail, but he'd remembered. Just like her birthday. It was sweet and she would be lying if she said that it didn't make her more confused.
She'd realized in the month that they'd known each other that she really liked him. A lot. More than she probably should. She knew that Roger wasn't really interested in anything with a title on it. It had been why they were friends. Friends with a massive amount of benefits, yes, but just friends. It had been on her mind throughout the play. She wondered what he would say if she mentioned that she wanted to date him. Properly date him. Daphne didn't want to scare him away or send him running without any intentions of coming back, but she still found herself wanting something more. With him.
"The present goes beyond my expectations," she assured him, still grinning broadly as they left the theater. "I didn't expect you to even remember my birthday, let alone Pride and Prejudice," she admitted. "Thank you. This was all… wonderful. Truly wonderful." The mention of pizza made her grin. "I think that pizza might put it over the top. You just love outdoing yourself, don't you?," she teased. The question about feeling old made her laugh. "No," she said. "I feel decently young, still. For now."
--
“Wonderful,” Roger mimicked amused. He was glad, though, that Daphne seemed so happy with the present. Roger, too, had not expected himself to remember. Maybe her birthday, but certainly not her love of Pride and Prejudice, and yet he had and here they were. Mostly, Roger had been glad he hadn’t had to get her writing implements, which would’ve felt like a somewhat cheap cop-out. This, though, this was good and Roger was genuinely quite pleased with himself, even if Daphne telling him that he must love to outdo himself made Roger laugh.
Doing well was not something Roger as used to and he wanted to almost turn the compliment away, but he also didn’t have to because he had done well. It was odd. Roger hadn’t really expected to be in a position where he’d feel nice for having done something that someone else clearly enjoyed. It made him want to do it more. For Daphne, anyway. “I’m pleased you liked it,” he told her honestly, stopping briefly so he could offer her a kiss. That, too, was not something Roger had expected, the ease with which he both did and wanted to kiss her. And yet here they were.
Once they began walking again, it didn’t take them long to get to the restaurant and Roger held the door open for Daphne as they walked in. The place wasn’t quiet but it also wasn’t terribly busy and the table they were seated at was just by the window, overlooking Cardiff Bay. Roger asked the waitress for a bottle of wine before raising a full glass to Daphne in toast. “Happy birthday,” he offered with a smile.
--
The kiss made her smile. The fact that he stopped their walking to give it to her and cared little if anyone saw him do so was nice. It made her feel very warm all over. If she had let herself think more of it, she would have been certain that her heart fluttered just a little at the kiss but she tried not to think too much upon things like that. She was confused enough without letting her brain latch hold of things her heart was doing.
Little things throughout their time together that day and all their other encounters had Daphne certain that there was a great deal of feelings that she couldn't continue to ignore forever. The kisses that made her feel weak, the way that he held the door open for her, the things that he remembered. All of these things were so very romantic and yet they weren't technically in a romance. It was decidedly unsettling to know that she wasn't really sure how they'd gone from friends with benefits to something that felt more like dating. She wasn't sure that if she admitted that she quite liked that change to Roger that he would want to stay in whatever their situation was. In fact, Daphne was quite sure that the moment she mentioned that she wanted to date him that he would turn tail and run. She didn't want him to, of course, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't.
Once at the table with the wine glass in her hand, she grinned at him. "Thank you," she replied, then took a sip. "This has all been really quite lovely, Roger. Thank you."
--
“Good,” Roger confirmed with a nod. He hadn’t been lying to Arran when he’d said that taking Daphne to see a play and for a dinner had not been done in order to impress her. In fact, until Arran had mentioned it, Roger hadn’t even realised that those were the sort of things he’d do to impress a girl. Except Roger really didn’t feel like he had to impress Daphne. Which in turn had left him wondering what the reason for taking her out on her birthday had been. The problem (and the answer) to that was that Roger genuinely had just wanted to do something nice for Daphne. For no reward. Which wasn’t really a thing he knew much about. Roger was not great at doing nice things for people, or at least he certainly didn’t think he was, so it was all still very strange and Roger just ignored it.
Taking a sip of his wine, Roger gave Daphne a grin. “You’re welcome,” he told her. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he added truthfully. It was another one of those times where Roger mostly was surprised by not being surprised at all. There were a lot of emotions that he simply had no idea what to do with, so Roger ignored those, too.
--
"I'm really very surprised that you went to all of this trouble," Daphne admitted as she sat her glass down on the table and looked across at him. "I wasn't expecting you to remember my birthday, let alone do anything for it." Especially something as sweet and thoughtful as what he'd done. She wondered if he thought it was strange as well, but didn't ask.
"Roger, I'm really very confused," she said. "All of this between us has been wonderful, really, and I very much want to carry on right along doing what we've been doing this whole time, but I keep thinking that I want more than that." Daphne bit her bottom lip and dropped her eyes from his, focusing on her glass briefly. "Could you ever see yourself dating me?," she questioned.
--
“So am I,” Roger assured Daphne since it was true. He was surprised that he’d gone through all this trouble, except, of course, it hadn’t felt like trouble at all. Even inviting Astoria to come with them had seemed easy and Roger hadn’t thought twice about it until after she had already declined. About the oddity of it all. As for remembering Daphne’s birthday, Roger could at least excuse that by acknowledging that her birthday had simply been very close to her telling him the date. Remembering that Daphne liked Pride and Prejudice? Well, that Roger had no real excuse from.
When Daphne said she was confused, Roger gave a small shrug because so was he, so it was hardly as if he could explain anything to her. But then she didn’t stop there. Roger was sure that at her words his eyes widened slightly and he felt like a heavy weight had settled down in his stomach out of nowhere really. ‘I want more than that’ was basically the exact phrased Roger had heard from a multitude of girlfriends in the past. Right before they broke up with him or he broke up with them. Except him and Daphne weren’t dating so somehow that felt a lot worse.
The temptation was to leave. Roger physically had to shift in his chair to stop himself from leaving, though it would be a lie to say that he didn’t glance towards the restaurant door. But then he reminded himself that Daphne was his friend and it was her birthday and that would be extremely rude. Or well, Roger had assumed Daphne was his friend. Either way, it was still her birthday. Which, Roger was sure, he’d undoubtedly would proceed to ruin.
Taking a rather slow and prolonged sip of his wine, Roger gave Daphne a careful look as he put the glass down. “How would dating differ from what we do right now?” Roger asked her, feeling that he might as well attempt to establish what she was saying, since leaving was not an option. Though, Roger did refuse to discard it completely.
--
His eagerness to flee was tangible. Daphne watched him look towards the restaurant door and imagined the wheels turning in his brain as he tried to find the quickest, most practical exit. Daphne couldn't really blame him. She was slightly angry with herself for bringing up the topic of conversation at all. It wasn't Roger that was ruining her birthday. She'd done that very well on her own by coming up with the question in the first place. No matter how he responded to it, she'd been the one to pose it.
"It wouldn't," she told him honestly. "That's why I am wondering why we try so hard to distinguish the fact that we're not dating. I like spending time with you, I'm thinking of you in one way or another even when I'm not with you, and I guess I just wonder what it is that's keeping us from saying that we're dating when all the signs point to the fact that we sort of already are." Daphne let out a breath and took a sip of her wine. Then another. "You don't have to suffer through dinner if you don't want to," she told him. "I won't be upset if you run." She let out a breath. "That's a lie. I will be, but I won't blame you."
--
“I’m not going to run,” Roger replied with a roll of his eyes almost as if it was a ludicrous proposition when they were both clearly aware he had at least considered it. Still kind of was. Roger thought about Daphne’s question, about what made them (him) try so hard not to call this dating. That, in the grand scheme of things, was actually one of the easier questions she’d asked Roger. “I like dating,” Roger told her honestly. “I’ve dated a lot,” which was true. Roger never counted how many girlfriends he’d had since he first started dating around the age of fifteen, but there were certainly quite a few. “But I don’t think I’m very good at it,” that was slightly less true. Roger was excellent at dating. He just wasn’t very good at sustaining that relationship past the phase of dating.
What he had with Daphne was odd, it was new and unexpected and Roger liked it. Liked her. The sex was great. The conversation was great. She was great. But whatever ‘more than that’ was, Roger was hundred percent sure she wouldn’t find that with him. “What is it that you want from me?” Since maybe that’d be a start, knowing that. Especially since Daphne admitted that there was no difference that she could identify in how they were and what dating was.
--
Eye rolling or otherwise, he'd considered it and the look that she gave him said she knew as much. "Oh, like I'm good at it?," she said, laughing. "I think that you're probably a regular Casanova compared to me. I'm not expecting you to be good at it, even if you probably are, I just…," she trailed off and shrugged. In truth, she wasn't really sure what she was expecting at all.
"I want to keep seeing you," she told him. That she was certain of. "I want to keep seeing that cocky smirk of yours when you say something quick-witted. I want more surprises, like today. I guess I just want to know what it is we're doing because it doesn't feel like just friends despite my best efforts to pretend that it is."
--
Roger honestly wasn’t sure where Daphne was going with this. As far as he could tell, the time they spent together was good. He liked it. He thought she liked it. There was very little interest in Roger to stop doing that. In fact, he had been rather sure they’d easily established that they might as well carry on with whatever they were doing until they no longer were. Roger’s problem (one of many) was that actually to him it did like they were friends. Maybe not ‘just’ friends, but it just didn’t feel like how majority (all) of his previous relationships had. Those had felt a lot like chess. Doing the right things, making the correct moves, and sacrificing your Bishop to get to her Queen and then being check-mated into a corner anyway.
This didn’t feel like that. Hadn’t, at least, up until Daphne made it sound hell of a similar to every single other conversation Roger had had with women he dated. First came the ‘I want more’ and then came the ‘you just won’t give me more’. Roger knew the patterns he fell into and really he had never desired to change that. “So you want... what?” Roger repeated before giving a small shake of his head. “Would it somehow make you feel better to call me your boyfriend?” The thing was, that if it would, Roger was rather sure he’d agree to it.
--
Daphne sighed. She wasn't sure if it would make her feel better at all because she knew that it likely was the last thing that Roger wanted. Painting him into a corner wasn't exactly what she'd meant to do and she realized as he spoke that she had pretty much done just that. There was little he could say to keep carrying on the way they'd been going other than give in to whatever it was he thought she might want. "No," she said, shaking her head. "It would be quicker than saying all the things that you really are or limiting your description to "a friend" when I feel like you're more than that. At the same time, though, we went into this promising that it was just that; friends. I've somehow fucked that all up without meaning to."
Daphne let the tip of her finger slide around the rim of her wine glass. "I don't want to back you into something, Roger. I just want to know if you could ever see yourself wanting to date someone like me. Is that even possible?"
--
When Daphne said she’d somehow fucked all of this up, whatever the this between them had been, Roger nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed because frankly she had. Roger had been perfectly happy in carrying on pretending that he didn’t feel things for her or that he didn’t do things for her. He was quite good at giving the impression (even if just to himself) that this didn’t matter. Roger had, of course, known that it did, because he took Daphne places, talked to her. Told her things. Lydia had been surprised and so had Arran and, frankly, the person most surprised by it had been Roger. This, though, felt like shifting things and Roger wasn’t sure what to do with that.
Roger frowned when Daphne told him she had just wanted to know if he would ever want to date someone like her. “I am genuinely really confused about what you think is going on between us,” Roger said far too honestly. “It’s not like I don’t like you,” in fact Roger knew well he had told her he did like her on multiple occasions. He did like her. “Like is this a self-consciousness thing?” Because if it was, Roger certainly hadn’t expected it. Nothing of what he’d seen of Daphne so far made her seem like someone who needed assurance that she was nice and good and desirable to date.
--
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks," she muttered, even if he was right and just agreeing with what she'd said herself. She hadn't really wanted to be agreed with, but she couldn't blame him for doing so. She'd messed things up pretty spectacularly. Daphne doubted that any of it would ever go back to the way it had been. If only she had left well enough alone.
"That's just it," she told him. "I don't know what is going on between us. I know you like me. I know I like you. But we're just friends. Or… that's what you want us to be. Hell, I don't know. Maybe it is a self-conscious thing. It's a very confused thing. I don't like being confused. I've spent my whole life being confused and worried and uncertain. I just want to know what all of this means. I've never had someone listen to little things that I like and take me out just to show me a good time like this. I don't know how to respond to it. You just… you put so much effort into this and I don't know why."
--
Roger did find all of it confusing. They had established that particularly point really quite well. Repeatedly. What Roger hadn’t really thought about was that there was something bad about being confused. It was irksome. Worrying at times. But it didn’t necessarily equate with bad for him. And Roger honestly hadn’t considered that that might be different for Daphne. But as she spoke, explaining that she’d felt confused for a very long time, Roger thought he got it. He knew that this was stranger for her than it was for him. Whilst Roger had never really done this much for someone (and he refused to call it trying, simply because it didn’t feel like effort), he did think it was probably a lot less confusing than fancying someone of a sex you had never felt attracted to.
“I don’t know why either,” Roger said finally. “And I don’t think dating you will explain that any better,” which was very true. If anything, Roger assumed this was the sort of thing friends did. Hell, it was the sort of thing he’d do for his friends. Probably. “I’m also not sure there is an answer to ‘what does this mean’,” he added truthfully. Other than ‘we get on and have some really great sex’ Roger was unsure what other answers were there. “But we can call this dating,” he said finally. “If it will make you feel like you’re on a more solid ground, we can do that,” and then, Roger would just break up with Daphne when she told him he wasn’t giving enough, or making enough effort, or expressing his feelings enough, or being supportive enough, or something. There was a long list. Maybe he should give it to her.
--
Daphne didn't know whether it was better or worse that he didn't know why he'd gone to the effort of taking her out for her birthday. She'd still enjoyed herself, of course, but not being able to sort things out into a black and white sort of explanation was difficult for her.
"We don't have to call it anything," she told him. "I just don't want it to stop." She liked this. She liked him. Sure she would like to have some more explanation as to what the hell they were really doing with one another, but she still felt quite a bit like she was pushing him somewhere that he was really certain he wanted to go. "Let's just keep drinking and stuff our faces with some pizza," she said finally. "Then maybe we can forget that I'm such a girl and that labels were ever mentioned."
--
The temptation to agree, to let her lead them into pretending that this conversation hadn’t occurred at all was really, really, really great. Except Roger also felt that it was going to help not at all and whilst he wasn’t prepared to do many things, and then actively tried to do even less of them, letting Daphne feel uncomfortable due to giving her more confusion was something Roger genuinely wanted to work against. Reaching across the table, Roger took her hand, linking their fingers together. “Daph,” he said making sure she looked at him. “You are my friend,” he told her, surprised how determined it sounded when Roger wasn’t actually hundred percent convinced she agreed. It was good, though, to sound so sure. “And yes, we have some amazing sex,” which they did. “If you want to call that dating, we can,” Roger repeated because he was unsure it’d make a difference. Not when it already felt like slowly starting a downward spiral.
With a sigh, Roger gave Daphne’s hand a squeeze before letting go so he could polish off his wine and then top up both of their glasses. “If your main concern is that this will stop,” Roger said looking straight at Daphne. “Then I’m sorry to tell you but everything stops sooner or later,” if anything Roger was mostly just surprised she wanted this (relationship?) to continue. But also there was a small amount of surprise in that she evidently also expected it to end, because why change the rules if there was no concern?
--
Daphne looked at his hand as he wrapped hers up in it. It felt nice and grounded her in the moment. It was easy to focus on the warmth of his touch and the gentleness that he used to link their fingers together. The way he said her name and that he was her friend made her smile a little, just barely enough to move her lips. She wasn't certain that she wanted to call it dating at all. In a way, she worried that calling it that would make him feel strange and make him want to escape. At the same time, she couldn't help but feel slightly possessive of his attentions and of him in general. Having the right to call him hers was certainly very appealing.
She sighed at his last statements. He was right, of course. Everything did stop eventually. Sooner or later, like he had said, it all ended. She hoped, however, that it would be some time before the end came to pass. She was quite enjoying the beginning and hoped to stretch out the middle as long as humanly possible. "I want you to want this to continue. To want me. To want an us. Sometimes when you look at me, it already sort of feels like there is an us. I guess I'm just wondering if I'm crazy. If I've somehow lost my mind in the last few weeks. I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop saying ridiculous things like this. Grinning when I hear your name or think about you for whatever reason. It scares the hell out of me."
--
The problem Roger had (a problem Roger had) was that he didn’t think them dating would make this somehow any less scary. If anything, he would’ve figured that it’d be worse because then the threat of actually breaking up would be more real. It would give them something to break up. “Are you really under any doubt that I do want you?” Roger asked raising an eyebrow at Daphne suggestively. He did suppose she might’ve meant more than just physically, but frankly, he’d taken to a fucking play for her birthday, Roger felt that should be indicative of the fact that he wanted more than just her body. Though he did definitely want her body, too.
“I don’t want you to feel confused,” Roger told Daphne more seriously. “Hell, I think, I genuinely want you less confused than I want myself being confused,” he admitted somewhat surprising himself with that. The realisation, that is, not the admission, since admitting things to Daphne just seemed quite default. “So if you think that us dating will make you feel better about this? I’m okay with that,” Roger decided. “I don’t--” and there Roger paused, shaking his head. “I guess, I don’t want this to end either, but that to me is as scary as the idea that it will,” which was true.
Taking a sip of his wine, Roger gave a small shake of his head. “When this,” he said with a wave of his hand between them. “Goes up in flames? You will only have yourself to blame,” Roger warned. That blame would hardly be because of something Daphne’d do, most likely it’d just be there to accompany the regret she’d have for having ever expected this to not go awfully. “And I’m still not doing crying,” he added seriously. “You cry, you’re in the garden.” Those were, after all, the house rules.
--
Daphne laughed at that question, then shook her head. "No," she admitted. "I mean there's always going to be that eagerness to be pleasing to someone you care about, you know? Like I want to make sure that you keep wanting me." Physically they didn't seem to have any problems and if the play had been any indication, he seemed to be affectionate towards her for more than just the sex, good as it was.
"And it's when you say things like what you just said that I get that weird, tingly, warm feeling. It's sweet. Why do you say confusing, sweet things?," she asked him, tilting her head and giving him a genuine, albeit small, smile.
"And what if it doesn't go up in flames?," she posed. "What then?" That was, perhaps, an even more frightening thought than it all turning to ash. The mention of crying made her laugh and she rolled her eyes. "I haven't cried yet," she pointed out. "I will continue to expect to do any such crying that may come to pass in the garden. Promise."
--
For Roger, he thought, the feeling was slightly different. He didn’t want to please Daphne so she’d like him. That was part of what had surprised him when Arran had asked if Roger was taking Daphne to see a play to impress her and Roger had realised that he wasn’t. Mostly, Roger just wanted to do nice things for Daphne and there was no actual reason for it that he could identify, at least not past wanting her to be happy. It wasn’t even that it somehow made any real difference to Roger. Mostly, really, he just liked the way she smiled when she found something interesting, or something nice. It was as attractive to Roger as the way she smirked when she teased him.
As for saying sweet and confusing things, Roger had no real answer or explanation to that either. “I don’t try to say sweet things,” he told her honestly, because he really didn’t. “Part of what I like about this,” Roger started but then paused. “Also part of what I find so confusing about it,” he added since was fitting. “Is that I really don’t try and yet somehow you seem to still be okay with that,” which was, quite truthfully, what made it confusing. It wasn’t a tactic Roger had employed in his attempts of getting laid, and was very dubious of whether it would really work with anyone but Daphne. Worrying on not, Roger wasn’t sure he currently cared to find out.
Roger gave a small but rather dry laugh at the suggestion that this might not go up in flames. “It will,” he said blankly because how could it possibly not. They’d stumbled into it blind and were now basically playing with matches. Fire, Roger was sure, was inevitable. “The promises of not crying help, though,” Roger added with a small smirk.
--
"I don't want you to have to try," she told him. "It feels more… real if you're not trying." Maybe that sounded strange in some way, but it didn't make it any less true. Roger didn't set out to try to impress her or to try to say nice things just so that she would feel fluffed up or important. He said nice things because they just came out that way. There was no ulterior motive behind what he spoke about or how he addressed her. It was that which Daphne found so intriguing. She wanted to hold onto those feelings and those sweet words as long as she could manage, even if everything did eventually go up in flames.
"Guess we'll just have to see," she said. "At least we can enjoy it while it lasts," Daphne said, shrugging. "Even if it ends in flames, I'm enjoying the smoke now." She smiled at him again, tilting her head as she looked at him. She supposed it didn't matter how it ended because right now it felt nice. "It's weird to think of actually having a boyfriend," she admitted, laughing. "I don't think that anyone ever really expected me to have one, least of all me."
--
No, Roger didn’t have to try and that was part of what was so strange. He didn’t even feel the need to try. Mostly, Roger seemed to just push to see how far he could go, how much he could tell Daphne before she’d realise that Roger really wasn’t worth her time and certainly not the effort she was sooner or later going to have to make. Why despite everything Roger had told her she was still here was puzzling but Roger liked it. He really did. And if that meant calling this more than being friends who had sex? Well, it was probably a sacrifice worth making. Or at least not one that would make things worse. Probably. Roger still reckoned there was plenty of expectation that would come with the label that he would fail to meet. But if Daphne wanted to discover that on her own? Well, Roger wasn’t going to stop her.
He did snort when Daphne said she was enjoying the smoke. “Funny,” he told her. “You’re funny,” Roger repeated with a grin before giving a small shake of his head when Daphne said it was odd to actually have a boyfriend as she’d never expected to. Which, fair, she had thought she was gay, that seemed like a reasonable expectation not to have. “Yeah, don’t get too excited about it,” he informed her. “I’m only paying for this dinner because it’s your birthday,” Roger added with a smirk. He honestly wasn’t sure what difference it made to their relationship to officially (at least to each other, though Roger did realise he was going to have to tell Lydia and Max and Arran) call it a relationship.
“Are you happier?” Roger asked. That had sort of been the point, right?
--
"Smart ass," she commented at his mention of paying. She cared very little whether he did or didn't pay for dinner, but it was still amusing. "Being my boyfriend doesn't mean that you have to pay for anything, even birthday dinners," she assured him, laughing. "I'm just fine going dutch if only so I feel better about using up all of your electricity several nights a week," she teased. "I still say you need to be paid for all your editing services," she added. She wondered if he would ever let her give him some sort of wage for all that he was doing to help her. There was little in it for him unless he was counting the sex.
The question was expected, she supposed, and she couldn't deny that she was happier. "Yes," she admitted. "Is it weird that it feels less confusing now that I can put a label on it?"
--
Roger did smirk when Daphne called him a smartass, rather proud of himself for that. He did also shake his head when she said they could go dutch. Roger was hardly going to make her pay for her own birthday dinner, that was just rude. Besides, it was hardly as if he didn’t have money. Roger got paid perfectly well and did very little with that money, so really, he could probably take Daphne out every evening if they wanted to. The thought of them as a unit who could or could not want something, together made Roger gave another shake of his head, before frowning at Daphne and what she said instead. “No,” he told her since Roger really didn’t believe that the edits he’d made were something he required payment for. Then again, Roger didn’t actually know what editors did. “Pay me when you get royalties,” he said rather challengingly. If she was insistent on paying Roger, he much rather take the money from her actual book sales.
“I don’t think it’s weird,” Roger replied when Daphne asked if there was something odd about enjoying having given their relationship a label. “I think the point of labels is to make things less confusing,” Roger added. Personally, he wasn’t sure he did feel less confused about the situation, but his own confusion didn’t really stem from such questions as ‘what they were doing’ and more the ones with ‘how’s and ‘why’s in them. Giving it a label didn’t really answer that.
--
Daphne smiled at his suggestion. "Deal," she told him. The thought of getting royalties might have been a long way from actually happening, but it was still a nice thought regardless. She wondered if it would ever come to pass. She could hope, she decided. And at that point she would make sure that Roger was fully compensated for all the effort he had actually put into making her a better author, whether he believed he had or not.
"True," she agreed. Labels did have that intended purpose, she supposed. It was probably a silly thing to feel better about a label, but she did. She had a boyfriend now, confusing as that still was. That thought alone kept a little twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.
--
Apart from the bit where Roger had genuinely considered running away (only briefly so that was definitely a positive), the whole thing hadn’t exactly gone awfully. Roger, of course, doubted that the first five minutes of officially dating were going to be very indicative of the rest of it, but that didn’t seem terribly important to point out right now. “Okay,” Roger nodded since they seemed to have exhausted the ‘what are we’ conversation, thankfully. “Lets eat,” he said waving to the waitress so she’d come and take their order.
“And then,” Roger added turning back to Daphne with a smirk. “We can go home and see if being in a labelled relationship has destroyed the great sex,” Roger joked. Mostly. He certainly hoped that wouldn’t turn out to be the case.