Pietro Maximoff (seethiscoming) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-07-22 20:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, hanna marin, pietro maximoff (quicksilver) |
Who: Pietro Maximoff Peter & Hanna Marin
What: Hanna calls an Uber
When: 20th July
Where: Shopping heart of OC
Rating/Warnings: G | None
Status: Log | Complete
In hindsight being a taxi driver even an Uber driver was a poor choice of career for Peter given how short both his patience and he attention span was. Still, it was easy enough job, and he didn’t have to jump through a million hoops to get hired and nobody gave a damn about where you came from if you could get them from a to b in less time than they thought it would take.
He was a natural speedster it would seem but had so far evaded issues with the cops mostly due to the fact he caught onto their using lurking spots really quickly and deliberately slowed down before hitting them.
Today he was picking up a job that took him deep into the retail heart of Orange County, to pick up a ‘Hanna’ and he was as per usual early so he pulled up to do the one thing he hated more than people: wait.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be waiting too long.
Thankfully, he didn't have to. There was something brilliant about how Uber let you know when the driver was coming, so Hanna stepped out quickly and glanced at the car, checked the plates and then got in, eyebrow lifting a little as she realised that the driver was most definitely not the kind of driver she was used to. He had sharp features and dark hair and was super cute.
It made her glad that she had made an effort today.
Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at it again, feeling a familiar swirl in her stomach of apprehension. Careful Hanna, I hear prison food makes you fat - A. She'd had the message about eight times, now and she threw her phone in her bag.
"Thank you for, like, being on time. Last three ubers I called for were late."
Blue eyes lifted to regard his passenger in his rear view mirror and a slow disarming smile (the kind of smile that spelled trouble) spread across his lips. “I am never late.” His accent whilst present was less thick than it had been when he’d first arrived in America but he still spoke English as his second language which meant he didn’t use a lot of contractions and sometimes he struggled for the right word but he learned quickly, very quickly.
He shifted the car into drive and waited for a break in the traffic before he took them out.
Hanna tipped her head, “Then I guess I’m gonna have to try and ask for you each time, then,” she said with a little nod of her head. “Did the location come through okay? Sometimes it’s a little funny, I know. Fashion Island?”
“Clearly,” Peter answered with a smirk as he turned a corner and pulled to a stop as the light turned red. “It took me a moment to work out what it meant but I have picked up other people from here so thankfully it was not hard to find my way here.”
Hanna smiled. “How long‘ve you been an Uber driver?” She didn’t mind making small talk, and it wasn’t hard to chat to a driver who was so cute.
Good question. Time flew when you were having fun or that was the saying, right? He glanced up to make eye contact again. “Couple years. Ever since I came to America from my home country.”
Hanna knew he wasn’t American, but hearing it was something else. She leaned forward, “what do you think of America?” She asked, “oh-um, am I allowed to ask that? Is it rude?”
A chuckle escaped him at the question and the sudden panic around it. “It is not rude. America, it is... different. A lot more liberal than my home country and the people are louder.”
Hanna let out a relieved breath. “I’ve been told we’re pretty loud. I know a lot of people think we’re, like, rude too?”
Peter snorted quietly. “I am not exactly polite.” And he really was. Said what he thought and didn’t care how it was taken and who he offended.
Hanna snorted in response, "I get told that I'm rude? But like, I never mean to be. So where'd you come from? I like your accent."
"Are you honest with people when others are not?" Peter asked, glancing up at Hanna briefly before his attention returned to the road. "I am from Romania."
"I am," Hanna replied honestly, meeting his eyes in the mirror before he looked away again. She, too, glanced away, leaning back in her seat so as not to appear too eager, or nosey. "Romania? Is that, like, in Europe?"
“People do not appreciate honesty,” Peter affirmed with a nod of his head which resulted in an errant stand of hair escaping his hair tie. “Prefer it when people sugarcoat things.”
A warm laugh escaped him at her question and another look was stolen at his very pretty passenger. “Yes, in Europe.”
“I guess I always forget to, uh, sugarcoat things? I mean if you don’t wanna know my opinion don’t ask me, right?”
She beamed when he laughed and confirmed he was from Europe. “I can’t believe I got that right. I love Europe. I’ve never been but it just looks so classy.”
“Exactly,” Peter agreed with a nod of his head. “I am not responsible for caretaking your feelings if you have asked for my opinion.”
That smile, well, it could light up a city block. “Some places are better than others. Important to pick the right one.”
Hanna nodded, enthusiastically. “Right?! I mean, like come on. You can’t be mad at me for doing what you asked.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, wetting her lower lip to give herself a moment to ask, “Yeah? Maybe you can tell me about it some time?”
Peter took the next left and smirked. “People, they are the worst.” And he had a feeling he knew more about the depths of stupidity and ignorance that the human race was capable of but those memories were still so far out of reach.
He stole a sly look at Hanna and his own smirk turned into a slow flirtatious smile. “I would be happy to.”
“Oh my god they totally can be,” she agreed readily. “They are so terrible sometimes, like, it’s hard to believe.”
She looked surprised when Peter - since the app gave the driver’s name - agreed and she smiled again, bright and delighted. “Great! We can go for coffee, maybe?” He was so cute and he had an accent and his smile was sharp and killer and okay, so Hanna wanted to try and be bolder. She couldn’t be afraid of her text messages and phantom dreams forever.
“I have learned you can never account for people and their stupidity.”
A nod was given easily. “I would like that.” He didn’t normally agree to go for coffee with the people who sat in the back of the cab but Hanna was a very pretty young woman who seemed to be on the same wavelength as him which was rare in itself. “We will have to exchange numbers when I drop you off.”
Hanna nodded, “that’s wise,” she told him. Because it was. Einstein has said something similar. He was from Europe, too.
“Cool,” she replied, trying not to get her hopes up too much but it was a bold new step in New Hanna’s life and she was pleased that so far it hadn’t crashed and burned. “I know a couple of really cute places.”
“Cute places?” Peter queried, eyebrow arched. His grasp of the English language was good but the nuances did escape him at times.
"Yeah," Hanna said, "Oh- uh- I mean they do nice coffee and cakes and stuff."
Ah, now that made more sense. “I understand now.” Honestly speaking in his own language was easier but not many Americans he found spoke more than one language.
“Thank you for clearing that up.”
"It's okay, sorry, I didn't think." She smiled and glanced up, feeling disappointed that they were nearly at her destination. She'd enjoyed this cab ride over, she was glad that they'd be swapping numbers.
She leaned forward again, waiting for Peter to pull the cab to a halt before she handed him her phone, open on the new contact page. She rested her chin on the edge of his chair, fingers tucked underneath it for cushioning.
Peter did just that. Pulled the cab over and then turned his head to offer her a smile as she made herself thoroughly at home on his chair while handing her phone over.
In what seemed like record time his number was inputted and saved down and his own was being passed over to Hanna.
Hanna took the phone and put her number in, a little less speedily than Peter, but quickly enough none-the-less. She was quite adept at technology.
"When're you free?" she asked, after she'd passed the phone back. "I mean- when do you work and stuff?"
Peter put his phone back into its charger and flicked to the next job. “I work Mon to Fridays, in the day and sometimes the occasional Saturday. I always have Sundays off.”
"Well, I mean, I don't have a job right now so I'm free, like, all the time. So if you wanted to text me and we can arrange to meet up or something? Get that coffee?"
A smile spread across Peter’s features and he have a small nod. “I’d like that.” It probably wouldn’t be long before he texted her as he believed in striking while the iron was hit. Or hot period. Which she was.
Hanna grinned and tapped her phone to make sure that payment - and tip - were sent across via the app. She pushed open the door and started to get out of the car. "So... I'll see you soon?"
Peter kept his blue eyes on Hanna as he gave her a further smile. “Definitely.” And Peter was true to his word when it came to things that mattered.
Hanna grinned and climbed out of the car. "I look forward to it," she tapped the top of the car and closed the door, stepping up onto the kerb and wiggling her fingers in a goodbye at Peter through the window.
Peter offered her a smirk and a wink before he was moving onto his next job. No rest for the wicked