Re: Diner: Michael/Janis
He talked a great deal. Contrary to popular opinion, most people didn't talk very much, unless it was about themselves. He was passionate about something outside of himself, which was rare enough these days, especially in Janis' business. Her smile acquired a cast of more fondness than amusement, even if she had no appreciation for his 80's movie wit. In fact, she was more enthusiastic about the pancakes than she was about the Terminator quip, though her appreciation for his choice of science was evident enough, even if she had little to say in response. (She knew what the inside of a guy looked like, and she had no desire to see it. Knew what her own insides looked like too.)
She had her fork in her right hand as he looked up to hold her gaze, and she pressed the tines down into batter and plate as he spoke, all without looking away. Janis' eyes were green, a choice to compliment the summer grass blonde of her hair, and rather than stare back into his dark gaze with limpid attention and adoration, she narrowed her eyes, a faint flex of the muscles in the corners and in the division of her brow. It was an expression duplicated perfectly regardless of what face she wore, and betrayed calculation and concentration. She didn't know what he was, nor exactly what kind of power that passion held, but there was certainly something there and it wasn't just human rapture with good looks and compelling beliefs. Janis wasn't immune, not in the least, but she could see the glimmer on his horizon and she knew what had happened the moment he looked away and she let her eyes blink down into the break.
If she had so much as a suspicion that he had done it on purpose, she would have lit him on fire right there. Promise to Atticus be damned.
Janis watched him and twisted the fork, dragging the ragged pieces of pancake through the sticky syrup. She was too distracted to remember to smile when he grinned at her, or come up with anything approving to say about his (admittedly very noble) sentiments. She chewed a bite and leaned back abruptly into her seat. "Nothing much to tell. Corn-fed from Nebraska. Nothing remarkable in school, married early, divorced early, came this way and living the dream." A softer, unsmiling wink this time; slow. "Very single."