Astoria Greengrass (foxtoria) wrote in vrrpg, @ 2017-05-15 20:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, char: astoria higgs, char: christopher higgs, location: residence, time: 2009 04 |
RP: First Not-A-Date
Who: Kit and Astoria
When: Tuesday, April 18, 2009 [back-dated]
Where: Her flat, muggle pub, his flat
What: Lots of art - viewing and talking!
Warnings: None
Astoria had not felt brave enough to go into work again today, but she had snuck in to switch out yesterday's work for today's before quickly going back home to hide. Not that she was hiding. She had no reason to hide. At least, none that she was willing to admit to. Even if she had thought about that night with Callie many times over the past few days, she was still pretending it hadn't happened. Not very well, mind, but there was an effort being made.
She'd hurt Blaise's feelings, she was sure, in being so evasive with him and not confiding in him, but she just hadn't been able to bring herself to put to words the mess that was in her head. It all felt so unbearable complicated now, and she had no idea how things would be different now between her and Callie, her and Blaise, her and anyone else who might find out she had slept with Callie.
But what wasn't complicated was the plan to admire art with Kit. It was something she'd looking forward to since they talked about it a couple weeks ago, and even though she'd been tempted to cancel and hide away from him, too, she just couldn't bring herself to. It was something simple and happy and uncomplicated, and that felt like precisely what she needed now.
Although she did look nice, she hadn't gone out of her way to pamper for his visit - it wasn't that sort of thing. She wore a simple pair of trousers, a nice blouse, and left her hair down in soft curls. As she waited for Kit to arrive, she sat on her sofa with a good book.
He'd not really focused on the almost date like quality that this held. Honestly, it hasn't occurred to him until he'd almost stuck his foot in his mouth. Honestly it wasn't that she wasn't attractive; she was! It was simply he didn't tend to think in terms of that when he first started to get to know a person.
No, his attention was mostly focused on his utter nerves at the fact someone from the magical world who wasn't Logan was going to see his artwork. It was terrifying on some level. So really his mind was mostly worrying over that aspect.
But he'd pulled himself together enough to put on slacks and a nice enough shirt - once again coming off unintentionally as some sort of model professor sort - that matched his eyes. It was an automatic thing anymore, after so many years of modeling, to look good.
Then his want went into a hidden seam of his slacks and he apparated outside of her place and knocked. He was, at least, good at pretending a lot of things since he'd had plenty of practice, and when she answered his smile was quick and genuine as he focused on her. "You invited me over to see your etchings?" He said with a waggle of eyebrows and a wink that was so obviously a tease that she couldn't possibly take him seriously.
At the knock, Astoria neatly tucked her bookmark in place and set her book down on an end table. She got up and padded in bare feet across to answer it, and there was a moment when she felt inexplicably charmed by his appearance, something she was attributing to knowing that he was a bit nervous about tonight and yet still had that lightness about him, that gentle teasing.
She couldn't help laughing lightly at his question and the exaggerated eyebrow wiggle and wink that went with it, already feeling some of the tension in her shoulders relax. This she could do. This she could handle. Kit was uncomplicated and was providing a perfectly delightful distraction: art. If she were focusing on him and art then she could avoid thinking about the Situation. And maybe, just maybe, she could have a small reprieve from the guilt that had been plaguing her for days.
"Oh, no, no, no! Not my etchings!" she insisted. "Just things I've collected." Best not give him the wrong impression. She was hardly an artist, at least outside of her music. She was merely one who appreciated art. "But, please, come in," she offered, stepping back and waving him in. Once they were ready to head to his place or that pub for dinner she would get her put her shoes and coat on.
"Oh, sorry, not your etchings. I must have misunderstood! I thought I was here for your etchings," he continued to tease as he entered her flat, that light, teasing smile still on his face. It probably came across as light, casual flirting, as tended to be his way. She'd yet to tell him he was out of line and he had a feeling she would, if she really thought he was.
But he gave her a light, casual, proper enough embrace in greeting. They'd known each other long enough, technically, for that, and he had an easy way about him and his hands never strayed even if at times he could give other people the impression he did things when he never did.
"But anyway, good evening, Astoria, I hope your day at work wasn't too bad," he said. "Please, show me your collection, is really like to see it."
He was pulling her leg, Astoria realized. She narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose at him, though her lips were curved up a bit in amusement. Perhaps he was being a little extra silly to offset his nerves; she didn't know him quite well enough to be able to tell. Once he was inside, she shut the door, and when he embraced her, she returned it, not reading anything more than intended in it.
"Oh, it wasn't bad at all," she assured him, not about to tell him that she hadn't gone in to work today because she wasn't ready to face her best friend yet. And, technically, she had kept busy working, as evidenced by the stacks of paperwork on her desk, though nothing confidential was visible. "I was productive." And that was how she gauged how good or bad her work day was.
"My collection is everywhere," she said with a light laugh, waving her hands around to indicate her walls and decor. Most of it was original artwork she'd procured direct from the artist, as she wasn't much a fan of mass produced art. Her flat was meticulously clean and tidy, everything in its place, and the artwork reflected her interests well. There were a lot of paintings of nature, the pots she'd told him about, and various other things.
Kit was, perhaps, being a bit sillier than usual because he was nervous. He couldn't really help himself. This was a much bigger thing for him that she would realise. She would have no idea how nervous it made him to reveal this part of himself to anyone in the wizarding world who didn't already know.
Though the knife's edge of nerves did have a certain thrill. He liked exciting things. But this was also unnerving.
"Productive is good," he said. He didn't know if he'd be able to do a normal job or anything like that. He enjoyed teaching pretty well but it was still not the same day in and out.
He turned to the right, hands stuck into his pockets so he wouldn't reach out and touch right away. And he started to stroll slowly, looking intently. He gave each piece a lot of attention, a couple more than others. But his hands did come out because he couldn't help himself, and his appreciation was obvious. And then he was talking to her a bit about a piece here, there, asking about the artist or whatever, obviously warming up to it and passionate about the topic.
While Astoria often came off as reserved and quiet and, possibly, dull or boring, she was really not. It just took the right company, the right situation, the right motivation for her passion and enthusiasm to shine through, and art was definitely the right motivation. Her expression was bright and almost cheerful for the first time in days as she walked around her flat with him, though she tried not to chatter too much at him as he looked through her collection.
She did enjoy answering his questions, though, telling him little stories about some of the pieces when he showed interest in them. And once they'd been through her living and dining areas where most of her art was displayed, she bit her lip, considering whether or not to show him the pieces in her bedroom. She didn't want him to take it the wrong way, but something told her she didn't have to worry too much about that with him.
"I love all of these pieces, of course, or I wouldn't have them, but my favorite is actually in my bedroom," she finally said, nodding her head for him to follow her. And then she led him the long way around, through the living room and down the hall, instead of taking the shortcut through the bathroom off the dining room, as she'd thought that would seem strange.
She bit her lip again as she opened her bedroom door and stepped inside and then aside for him to join her there. Men didn't go in her bedroom as a rule - for that matter, women didn't either. Of course, Blaise was the exception, and Callie very recently as well, and Daphne but that was different because she was her sister. It was a strange sort of experience for Astoria, who was a very private person, but she rather thought Kit would be able to appreciate this particular painting, especially if she drummed up the courage to tell him how it was painted. "This is it, one of my absolute favorites," she said, crossing to where the painting Isadora had done for her hung. It had started as a sketch, but before she'd left France, Isadora had done the shipwreck with mermaids and sailors as a painting for her.
He loved hearing the stories about how she'd gotten them. About the artists. So he opened up more, in a more natural way than the charm he'd learned for years, chatting animatedly about things. He gave her his full and undivided attention, a rather intense thing to be perfectly honest, his light eyes fixed on her and the paintings as they discussed.
And when she invited him to her bedroom, he didn't find it odd in the least. He also didn't read anything into it. She didn't look like she was issuing an invitation, anyway, and he hadn't come looking for one. He did comment a silly, "ooh lala," and grim but it was so easily done that it was obvious he wasn't looking at anything but art.
That and he went to the painting immediately, not really even glancing around otherwise. "Oh, isn't that gorgeous," he murmured. He was utterly captivated. He studied it. Familiar, somehow. He wondered if he'd met the artist before.
At his silly little comment, Astoria shot him a look that lacked any real heat. If she'd thought he actually thought it was anything like that, she might have been less inclined to follow through and let him see her room. It helped that he gave the painting his immediate attention, made it feel a little less intimate.
"Isn't it just?" she echoed, tone breathy as she looked at the painting, easily pulled into the memory. "That painting has a very special story attached to it. I was playing - I play the violin, if you didn't know - while on holiday in France and imagining this very scene. This woman happened to be there, and she sketched it while I was playing, and when she showed it to me after, I asked her how she'd done it, how she'd drawn what I'd been imagining as I played, and she said it was magic."
There was a soft, sweet smile on her face as she talked about it, clearly nostalgic. "And before I came back home, she'd painted this and gifted it to me." And she'd always wondered if it had been because of Isadora's veela magic or if it was an artist thing.
"I recall," he murmured. He leaned in closer, tilting his head as he studied the way the brush strokes had been done. Delicate and careful. But still passionate. He could practically see the water moving, though it wasn't charmed. He'd know, he thought, if it was. It was fanciful, more like his kind of mermaids unless he was doing an exotic, real sort for a certain piece.
And it did tell a story, like some of the best paintings did.
"Well, it's gorgeous," he said. "And it certainly is a certain kind of magic." He'd done something similar a couple of times, he suspected, pulling something more out of a person than what was on the surface. But he'd never tried much with music, other than having something playing while he was working at times. But then, these days he did much more sculpting than painting, though he still indulged himself.
"It's a wonderful present and a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it with me," he told her, open and genuine and honest as his pale eyes turned back to her and he smiled warmly. He knew, somehow, it wasn't a story she told often, and he appreciated it all the more because of that.
She wondered if he could tell what sort of magic it was, and she wondered how he could tell there was a certain sort of magic to begin with. And, she couldn't help wondering if he could do something similar. "You're quite welcome," she replied, returning his warm smile.
"Let me just grab my shoes and coat, and we can be on our way," she said then, ducking into her closet for her things and coming back out a moment later. "Where will we be going first?" she asked him as she gestured him back out of her bedroom. They had talked about going to that Muggle pub, she knew, but she didn't want to assume either way.
He was intrigued enough he half wanted to ask her right now if they could try something like it sometime and see if he could do it. But he didn't think the time was quite right. Even though her smile was just as open as his, for a moment.
"That sounds excellent. Do you want to eat first? I hope you'll like the place. It's not fancy or anything." Probably not an appropriate date, per se. But this wasn't a date, after all. But he'd promised to feed her since she'd just come from work, and he tried to treat all his friends well and such. So it wasn't a date date, but a good solid friendly outing, and pubs were good for that. Especially since they were getting to know each other better than the passing they'd had at Hogwarts and a mutual friendship with Blaise, even if his was much more casual.
"But it's a fun sort of place. Good drink, decent food, darts, pool, all the like." His chatter was casual, easy, all meant to set her at ease. He was good at it. Been doing it for quite a while. It hid a lot of his own nerves, and he was trying not to think too hard about bringing her back to look at his art.
"Not fancy is just fine," she assured him. And Muggle was even better. She really didn't want to be out and about anywhere she would be recognized and have to deal with people right now. Kit was different, as he didn't know her as well and didn't seem like he would pester her with questions about her personal life. They could keep it about art and have a good, relaxing time with no pressure or expectations, and it felt like precisely what she needed.
"Although I'm not sure I'd be much of a challenge to play darts or pool with. I've only played either a few times." Although perhaps she shouldn't admit that to him, it would give him an edge if they were to play. She just wasn't competitive enough in those sorts of things to be bothered, though.
"Whenever you're ready," she told him when they were back in her living room and she'd tugged her coat on. It was probably getting too warm for a coat, but she didn't want to be without it if she were out late in the Muggle world and it cooled down too much. "You don't mind apparating us?" she asked to confirm, knowing some people could be a bit weird about it.
He also hoped that she wouldn't mind the Muggle-ness. He knew a lot of purebloods still did, or had trouble navigating it. He didn't, anymore, though he'd blundered a lot at first. Pestered Melinda and a couple of his other school friends subtly to get a feel for it, so he would know where not to stumble too much. But he virtually lived there, at least half the time, now.
"Not to worry. I can help you out or let some nice Scots person do so," he said easily, grinning. They were a friendly bunch, down there. He liked them a lot.
"Not at all, if you aren't," he said, and he offered his arm automatically. Though he was much more casual than most purebloods and most certainly more casual than his parents would probably like, some things had definitely stayed instilled in him from his upbringing, and Astoria was, after all, a lady, and he was going to be Apparating her. It was only polite.
When she was touching him, he rested a hand lightly over hers just for concentration's sake and gave that little part turn, destination clearly in mind. They arrived in a small nook in a clean side alley, and he patted her hand and looked down at her to make sure she was all right before he led her out onto the street. The pub wasn't that far, just a block or so, and it was lively enough at this hour though being a Tuesday, not terribly crowded. Karaoke was Wednesdays, not Tuesdays.
Scots person - she found the phrasing interesting, as most men, she'd found, would have assumed she wanted a man to help her out with it. Perhaps Kit was just more open-minded than that, or perhaps some of the speculation about him wasn't far off base. She'd never put much stock in the Birdie's column, even though it was published in Blaise's paper, but she had to figure the gossip-monger got some things right on occasion.
At his offered arm, she tucked her hand in the crook of it in a gesture that was as ingrained in her as breathing, not thinking anything of it. She smiled and gave him a nod when he covered her hand with his, carefully clearing her mind so that she wouldn't interfere with his magic. And when they arrived, she breathed in the cooler air with a faint grin. She'd been smart to bring her coat.
"What is your favorite thing to order here?" she asked once they'd entered the pub, wondering how often he ate out here and what was good.
Kit tended to vague things if he wasn't sure. Possibly being around too many models of wildly varying sexualities and even genders. Big eye opener to a pureblood from a conservative family who had never given it too much thought before beyond he didn't care so long as someone wasn't sticking their hands or other parts where he didn't want them (or someone else of course).
"Oh let's see. How long a run should I take tomorrow?" he asked cheekily, patting his stomach. "Honestly pretty much anything here is pretty good. Lots of fried stuff. Love the cook's burgers but he also does this amazing thing with green beans as an appetizer dish with dipping sauce. Addictive," he said with relish. "Meals are good though sometimes I like to just order appetizers and mix and match."
Kit was greeted with a few raised hands and smiles. It was obvious enough he was at least something of a regular. He didn't think his life would be too outed here, unless someone started calling him professor or something. It was a mix of people here, ages and all. "Bar? Table? There's a few booths and such." It was cozy, local, slotted between the college and regular life. Not really for tourists.
Astoria chuckled under her breath at that cheeky response to her question, though she had to wonder if he was being partially serious. He did seem to take care of himself physically, which was something she could respect, as she did the same. And frankly, she'd alternated between barely eating at all and eating far too much junk food the past few days that eating a variety of bar food seemed like a continuation of that. She could always go back to eating right tomorrow.
"Mix and match sounds like a good course of action," she said with a decisive nod. He could order his favorite things and they could share, if he was amenable to it. The way he was greeted so familiarly wasn't as much of a surprise since he'd already implied it was one he went to with some frequency. "Perhaps a table? Or wherever you'd prefer, I'm not terribly picky," she assured him, though she wasn't inclined to sit at the bar. Perhaps if they were here to drink primarily, but from her understanding that wasn't their purpose in coming here.
He grabbed them a table just out of the way enough they wouldn't constantly be bumped but near enough the pool table and darts that they could watch without much problem. Even if they didn't play he still liked to watch. But then, he had always enjoyed watching people.
Kit pulled out her chair automatically and seated her first with a playful, gallant smile. He greeted the server, a woman a little older than him, with a grin and a cheerful, "Hallo, Molly," and an inquiry about her kids before he introduced Astoria as his friend from out of town. The woman was a good sort and had a smile for both of them, though Kit's careful, breezy charm helped often.
He ordered them a mix and match selection of his favorite appetizers, including the addictive green beans he loved so much. He glanced at her as he did, willing to take her veto on anything if she didn't like the sound of it.
"And drinks?" Molly asked. It was obvious she was a bit curious about them - Kit rarely brought anyone other than Logan or a couple of Muggle friends in here.
"What's your preference, Astoria? A pint? Mixed drink? This place is pretty user friendly and Angus mixes good drinks."
As she sat, she offered him a quiet thanks paired with a small smile. His impeccable manners didn't surprise her, not when she knew he'd grown up similarly to her, with the same standards of behavior. She smiled at the server and greeted her in a friendly way when Kit introduced them, and then let him go ahead with the order since he was far more familiar with their menu than she was.
"I'll have a pint of bitter, thank you," she ordered, though she couldn't stop her mind from flashing to the tequila shots she and Callie had shared. Good gods, how was she going to be able to face Callie again? After what they'd shared... Astoria forcefully pushed the thoughts away. The whole point of not canceling and rescheduling this thing with Kit was that she needed the distraction, and she was determined to let it be the distraction she needed.
"Pint for me as well, please, at least to start," Kit ordered. He might get a rum and coke later.
Then his attention turned directly back to her. "So, tell me. You seem to favor painting as your favorite media. Is that true?" he asked, deciding to go with what they obviously had in common. "I mean, aside from music." Which he's definitely be willing to talk about as well though he was more out of his depth there than with artwork.
She tilted her head slightly at the question, considering it. "I suppose so, though I'm not sure it was intentional? It just seems to be the most common art form, and it's also the easiest to display." Since they often just took up wall space rather than floor space. It wasn't all she had, though, and even the figurine he'd sent her had been displayed on a shelf.
"Though you're right," she added with a light laugh. "Music is definitely my first love." Sometimes she thought it was her only reprieve, though she knew it was a dramatic sort of thought. "I play with the orchestra, and we're working toward a pretty big performance in early June." And rehearsal had been rather grueling on Sunday, even if it hadn't gone quite as late as she'd implied to Daphne when she'd pulled the rain check card on their usual Sunday dinner.
"Very true," he said. "Much easier to display most of the time." Though of late he'd been a bit more drawn to sculpture wall art, which took more thought that some would think since it was 3D and all. But he had noted his figurine, cute and all, on her shelf, and it had made him smile. "Do you have a particular favorite style within that? Or ... oil or water color or whatever?" He couldn't help but be curious.
"Oh, wonderful! Wizarding orchestra, right? You'll have to let me know when you perform so I can come listen." He liked most all the arts. He could hold a tune, it just wasn't his area of talent.
"Oh, no, I don't think so," she answered first before considering it further. "But I suppose content is more important to me than medium? For example, I'm not particularly fond of impressionism or expressionism - I enjoy a level of realism in the art I collect." Which he likely would have picked up on. "And, of course, I'm sure you noticed, I do collect a lot of paintings and photographs of nature."
She nodded at the question, smiling a bit wider at his interest in coming. "I will let you know, absolutely. They should be putting out the posters soon, but once I know the day and time and venue for certain, I'll pass it along to you." There were a few people she hoped would attend - Blaise, of course, though thinking of him threatened to let her mind drift to Callie again, and that just would not do.
"Do you enjoy the performing arts much?" she asked curiously, knowing it was a different sort of art than what he did.
"I appreciate realism. I mean, I do some real... fantasy? Kind of things, but I like to make it look real, you know?" Because mostly that's how he saw it in his head. There were a few dreamier paintings but not much of them. "I actually really love photography but somehow I just don't have an eye for doing it." But he had a nice collection at home.
"Please do." It would be an enjoyable chance to go out. "I do, actually, at least to an extent. I've always enjoyed theatre and my best mate is an actor, so there's that. But I've always enjoyed all sorts. Just happens I geek out for museums and such the most."
Their drinks were brought out, then, and she smiled her thanks and took a sip before nodding in response to him. "Definitely. I think the best sort of fantasy artwork is the types that make you believe it actually exists." And she wondered if Muggles felt that way about artwork depicting things in the wizarding world, if they assumed it was just fantasy but of the realistic sort. "I can take pretty photographs, but I'm not an expert by any means." She certainly didn't think anyone would be interested in purchasing her pictures, anyway.
"Oh, yes. Logan, right?" The two of them were often in the papers, though she really tried to avoid reading too much of the gossip. She generally found it distasteful. "I do love the theater, and it's always easy enough to find someone to attend with, but it's much more difficult to find a companion for museum and art gallery tours." And there was a bit of hope in her that perhaps Kit could fill that void.
"So do I. Makes it... more." He didn't always just talk, his hands were in on it too. Now his fingers spread wide in an attempt to express what he was saying. "I bet they're lovely. I take okay ones. But my friend Mickey, she's amazing. I'll have to show you her city scapes and a few of her nature ones. She used to date this professional photographer who did some of our shoots, but now we prefer if she does it. Especially if it is a more casual thing. She just, has it, you know?"
He was animated and a little intense as he spoke, obviously passionate about the discussion.
He smiled. "Yeah, Logan. We've been tight for years." Since before Hogwarts. "It really can be. Some people get bored when things are static, especially in our world." He didn't use the word wizard but he knew he didn't have to.
More was a perfect word to explain it, and she smiled at him as he became more animated as he talked. There was a soft fluttering in her stomach that she attributed to pleasure at finally having someone to talk art with who could actually appreciate it. "Oh, definitely. I think it's typically obvious if someone just has it," she agreed, and she was looking forward to seeing Mickey's photographs, though not as much as she looked forward to seeing Kit's artwork.
Her smile was a little less bright, a little more sad at that, and she nodded slightly. "Yes, precisely. We've been so spoiled with what we are capable of that we - or some of them, rather - forget to see the figurative magic in things." And then there were people like them who saw beauty and magic in even the simpler forms of art that Muggles were capable of.
"They do, and it's a bit sad," he said, agreeing completely. "I mean, someday I really do want to learn more than just the basic enchantments I know of for paint and sculpture and such... but you have to know everything else first, and there's so few in our world to teach it. Who will. So I went here, obviously." He shrugged. It wasn't widely known at all that he quite well inhabited the Muggle world and a lot of people would be shocked to know he could get around almost flawlessly. "That, and how imagination is less encouraged a lot of the time. I've always been better with my hands than with other pursuits. But it's less acceptable."
At least in some circles. In his family, at the least. Oh, they sort of knew he sketched but especially since he'd grown up he'd made sure to keep almost all of that separate except every now and again.
Their food headed their way, carried on a tray by Molly's strong arms, and Kit gave the woman a beaming smile and made grabby hands at the food, making her laugh as she set it down to let them have it all. "Fooooood."
Her head tilted slightly ass he considered what he was saying, trying to sort out what he wasn't saying. "Do you mean you studied art, like in a Muggle school?" she asked him, dropping her voice a little lower so it wouldn't carry beyond their table, though she doubted anyone would understand the term if they heard it. There wasn't any judgment in her tone, though, just curiosity. "I'm not actually as familiar with their world as I might seem. I do all right with theater and pubs and museums and such, but there's a lot I don't know." And she didn't really feel embarrassed admitting that, as it wasn't uncommon in their circles.
"It's really a shame that art and imagination aren't encouraged generally, although my parents weren't awful there. They always encouraged us to pursue music and art, though I always got the impression it was because we were girls." Her nose wrinkled at that, even if she did love playing the violin and appreciate her parent's encouragement in it when she was a little girl. And Daphne hadn't been near as interested in those pursuits as she had been, but regardless.
Astoria smiled as Molly brought the food out, but waited until it had all been set down and Molly went on her way again before choosing what to take a bite of first. "Oh, that is delicious!" she said after taking a bite of the green beans he'd raved about.
He might have blushed just a bit, his colour heightening, but he tried to vainly hide it by taking a large drink of his pint. There was no judgment, but a woman of her breeding could definitely hide it if she wished. He hadn't meant to really slip like this, but he was really into the conversation and he lost some of his normal boundaries when he did that. He shrugged his shoulders a little. "Well, I couldn't study it in our world," he said more quietly. "My parents would have had more than a little fit. It's bad enough I'm a model, you know."
Didn't do anything of real worth, was the general consensus, and not just his family. But he never quite crossed a line that his parents would throw a fit over, and he earned good money and promoted some good things. Never as good as Terence, of course; it took skill to be a quidditch player.
"You get around fine," he assured her. She'd dressed perfectly and of course she obviously went to theater venues and the like or they wouldn't be able to talk like they were.
His smile was a bit rueful in his agreement. "It probably was. It's not very acceptable to be a man and want to play with clay or paint. Just not done, you know," he said with a faint sniff.
"Isn't it? It's purely addictive," he said with a sigh as he munched on one. "The sauce he makes himself and I've never been able to quite replicate it."
Astoria caught the hint of color on his cheeks even if it was mostly hidden by his drink, and she politely diverted her attention to her own drink, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. She really hoped he didn't feel the need to be defensive about his choice, and she peeked over at him and offered him a small grin. "Of course. How dare you use your good genetics in a profession where they will be admired," she said dryly. "For what it's worth, I think your parents are ridiculous if they'd have a fit over it. You're talented, and I would imagine a parent's greatest desire would be to see their children put their talents to good use. Granted, I'm hardly a poster child for that, as my parents are much of the same mind as yours, but..." she trailed off there, realizing she'd been rambling a bit and blushing faintly for it.
"Well, thank you. There's still always that bit of nerves that I might... misstep while out and about," she admitted. "Though it doesn't happen near as often anymore." The more she did in the Muggle world, the less anxious she became about it.
It took every ounce of the manners that had been drilled in her growing up to not roll her eyes at that, though she knew he was likely right in that perception, even if she thought it was rubbish. "Bullocks. Some of the most renowned and revered artists throughout history have been men." But she wouldn't expect the prejudiced minds of their respective parents to understand that concept.
Her lips twitched in amusement at a thought, and she chewed on a green bean as she mulled it over. "Have you asked for the recipe, or is it a safely guarded secret?" Some chefs could be weird about that, she'd heard. "Or perhaps you could take some to examine and break down for the ingredients." Potions weren't her forte, but someone skilled in it should be able to do something with it, she thought.
"Ha, I know, right?" He tossed his head, letting his stylishly almost too long but not quite style flip slightly. He smirked and managed a cocky look. "I mean this face has to be good for something." Kit knew he was attractive. He also knew he wasn't as attractive as his brother or a fair amount of others.
Spontaneously he reached out and briefly grasped her hand. It was a moment and look of accord. They both knew something at least of being on the wrong side of their pureblood parents. "Then yours are the same," he said quietly.
"Practice makes perfect. I messed up a lot when I started out." Luckily he'd had a couple people to ask for help.
"They have," he agreed. "Even to the detriment of female artists. Never have understood the double standard."
He chuckled, an easy warm sound. "He teases me with it. But he knows I like coming here so he gets a pass. I could probably do it if I really wanted to but I like the atmosphere here. They don't even mind if I hole up in a corner sometimes and sketch."
She was laughing lightly at his antics, not taking it seriously as he hadn't come off as cocky or arrogant at all before. And then his hand was grasping hers, and she felt a kick in her stomach and had to fight the instinct to tug her hand away. Physical contact was something she'd never been easily comfortable with except with the people she was closest to. But she understood the moment, and the contact was brief, so she made it through without embarrassing herself.
"I imagine so, if in slightly different ways," she replied in the same quiet tone. Though perhaps not. Perhaps his parents would be equally horrified and disown him if he were gay, not that she had any intention at all of asking him. She might have completely obliterated that line with Callie, but that didn't mean she needed to let even more people know.
She'd heard that from a lot of people who had ventured out into the Muggle world. At the mention of double standards, she wrinkled her nose. "The world is full of them. Did you know, the last few years at Hogwarts - well, you'd have already graduated by then... - anyway, I wore the boy's uniform under my school robes. I know it's not much of a protest, but it felt good to do something." She felt a bit silly at admitting that, but she hoped he'd be able to appreciate her silent protest.
"Well, I suppose it's not a hardship to come in when you have a craving for these." She held up a green bean before popping it in her mouth. They really were tasty.
Kit could be rather physically affectionate given the opportunity. That, of course, hadn't been part of his upbringing, but came more naturally, though he tried to rein it in. Now, though, he simply reached out for a moment and then let it pass, noting to himself to keep from discomforting her further if possible.
"I hadn't heard that. Good on you," Kit praised her at the mention of her wearing the boys uniform. "Always thought it was ghastly unfair, especially in the winters. It got bloody cold there." And no amount of warming charms could fix everything, after all.
"Not at all, no," he said, and he pushed a few other things toward her to try. It was a nice little variety and he hoped she would enjoy it. He ordered himself another pint and looked to her before ordering for her, to make certain it was what she'd want. He wasn't one of those boors who just ordered for the lady unless she told him to.
Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink at his praise. "It truly was awfully cold in the winters." And even as good at charms as she was, there was only so much she could do.
Astoria did start trying some of the other things he pushed toward her. She'd been planning to get to them, but the green beans were so good she'd been momentarily sidetracked. "Oh, yes, thank you," she told him when he went to order more drinks. She wasn't quite done with hers yet, but by the time their fresh drinks arrived, she probably would be ready for it.
Some time later, she sat back in her chair with a soft laughing groan. "I don't think I can eat another bite!" she announced, though the food had been very good. "What now" she asked, happy to let him decide whether they played a game or went back to his home.
In the end, he ordered another thing of green beans. They were too good and they both obviously loved them. They all got eaten, too, in addition to most everything else. The chatter was quite companionable and even a little animated at times, at least on his part, as he was relaxing a bit. The alcohol helped a bit, though he wasn't drunk by any means. Just... relaxing.
"I know, I shouldn't eat anymore, but it just looks at me and I feel the need to finish it off," he said with a laugh, though at this point he was also nibbling on bits and pieces here and there. The spread had definitely been satisfying and he was very pleased to see that she seemed to be enjoying herself so far.
"Want to play a quick game before we go?" he asked. "Billiards or darts, lady's choice."
She chuckled softly at that, understanding the concept even if she didn't have those types of urges with food. Okay, perhaps with desserts at times, but in general, she didn't struggle to stop eating if she was no longer hungry. And the conversation had been wonderful and distracting in the best of ways. She was quickly finding that Kit was someone she could talk with very easily, and that was something she always treasured, as it wasn't common for her.
"Oh, hmm, how about darts?" she suggested. It felt like it would be a little less embarrassing and less dangerous. She had a feeling she would tear up the felt on the table if she were to try billiards!
"Darts it is!" he declared, rising from his seat and holding out a hand automatically to help her out of hers as well. "Maddox? You and Shell want to play too?" he asked a dark haired, barrel chested man, somewhere around their age, and the woman who was with him.
They were friendly enough, and he'd played games with them before the past couple of years. "Sure thing, prof," Shell said cheekily, grinning at them before extending her hand to Astoria. "Who's your pretty companion?"
"Friend from back home, in town for a day or two," he said easily. "Astoria, this is Shell and Maddox. They've been together an obscene amount of time, and Mad here sucks at darts, but Shell mostly makes up for it."
His introductions were easy and charming. "She's the better one of the two of us at everything," Maddox said, brogue thick but understandable, but the look on his somewhat gruff face was cheerful.
A soft laugh tinkled from her lips at his declaration, surprising herself. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd fallen into such a comfortable interaction with someone so soon, and it was both a little scary and completely delightful. Her hand lifted easier than she would have thought, settling in his offered had as she stood up and following his lead as he addressed another couple near them. She tugged her jacket off then, hanging it on the back of a chair.
"Prof? ...Professor?" she echoed, turning to give him a bit of a surprised and impressed look. Oh, there was definitely a story there, and she hoped he would feel comfortable enough to tell her later. She turned her attention back to Maddox and Shell a moment later, as Kit introduced them.
"Well, it's a relief that I won't be the only terrible one playing!" she said with a light laugh, smiling at the others. "You'll have to walk me through how to play, Kit. It's been ages," she reminded him.
Kit was rather good at setting people at ease. As intense as he could be, he tended to be laid back in a lot of his interactions. He tried to make people comfortable. It was just something he did.
He wrinkled his nose at Shell for the slip. Cheeky thing. "Oh, didn't he tell you? They make him teach at Uni some to pay for his keep," she said with a laugh. "All the students swoon over him, it's terrible. So distracting in class."
Kit flushed ever so slightly again. "Oh, don't be a perve, Shell. You're just jealous that you scare all the little boys in your classes," he said, rolling his eyes and going with humor.
"Damn straight I do. And if I didn't, Mad would do it for me if I asked."
Kit just shook his head and smiled and introduced everyone because honestly he didn't want to eplain all that just yet. "She teaches design courses," he told Astoria as they all headed to the dart board.
"Certainly. We'll just get our eye on the targets there and we can all take a couple of practice throws," he said, guiding her carefully with a hand on the small of her back, proper. Probably more so than he was with some, but he knew her and it came automatically in her presence. And then he and Maddox traded off explaining things, even if Mad was the one who sucked at the game half the time.
"No, he didn't. Well then. And I'm not surprised, he is rather swoon-worthy," she replied teasingly, giving him a bit of a cheeky grin. It was along the same lines as their joking earlier about his modeling, and she hoped he took it as well now as he had then.
She made a little 'ahh' sound when he explained Shell's role at the Uni and made a mental note to look more into the structure of schooling in the Muggle world. She wanted to know more and to be able to follow along in conversations like this.
Once they were set up at the dart boards, she tried to take in the instructions Kit and Maddox were giving, her eyes darting between them as if watching a tennis match. Her first practice throw didn't even make it to the board, bouncing off the wall below it and making her cringe. "Oops." She tried again, adjusting the angle of her hand in a way she hoped would get it in the right place. It got closer this time, but still missed the board by a bit. "I warned you I would be awful!" she told Kit, though she was smiling as she shook her head at herself.
He grinned back at her, taking the compliment and leaving the rest as a mess to deal with later. He only taught two classes, though he sometimes assisted with others. He wasn't high up in the chain at all. But he did enjoy doing what he did, on the whole. It was still something a bit different every day and it gave him a lot of freedom to do his own work.
Shell and Kit both got very decent marks on theirs, but Maddox, though managing to hit the board, was far out near the edge, proving that he wasn't terribly good either.
"No worries," he said cheerfully, encouraging her. "Another few tries to get the hang of it, and maybe a round for all of us to make it that much better." Not drunk, but a little buzz and a nice game and he thought he would okay to show her around his studio flat with all its artwork and works in progress.
At his encouragement, she wrinkled her nose at him. Somehow she didn't think a few more tries would do any good, and more alcohol was not likely to help, either. But, perhaps with another drink, she wouldn't mind so much if she continued to do terribly.
"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," she sighed after a few more shots missed the mark. She did keep from outright pouting, but it was a close thing. Astoria was just someone who had a drive to do well in her endeavors, which was why she typically stuck to things she knew she excelled at.
Kit hesitated a moment before stepping up behind her. "If you don't mind, I can try to help?" He offered, one hand lightly touching her waist- definitely not trying to be handsy, just wanting to show her.
If she said yes, he would get up behind her and keep a decent space between them if possible instead of taking advantage, though he knew it would look intimate. He was perhaps too good at making things look like things they weren't sometimes. And he'd help her aim it and show her the flick of the wrist he used.
What the hell was that strange little flutter low in her belly? There was no reason for it at all. Kit was being a perfect gentleman, he hadn't done anything to give her the impression that he had any untoward intentions with her. though perhaps it had something to do with the mess that her mind had been since she'd woke up with Callie on Saturday morning.
"I don't mind," she answered, quieter than she intended. It certainly didn't feel like he was trying to take advantage of her ineptitude with the game, but having him so close, even if they were hardly touching at all other than his hands, one on her waist and the other on her hand, helping to adjust it the proper way and demonstrate the flick of the wrist she should use, it made her nervous in a strange and not entirely unpleasant way.
When she released the dart and it actually hit the board, she let out a delighted sound, turning her head to beam at him even though the dart hadn't landed anywhere near the center of the board. He was still much closer than she realized, though, and her cheeks flushed a soft pink. She took a careful step away from him, then, utterly confused by the strange feelings. "I'll get us another round," she announced to the group, needing some space to give herself a moment to get her head on right again.
Once she knew what everyone was drinking, she headed to the bar to buy them a round of drinks. "There's no reason to be stupid about things, Astoria. You're grossly overreacting," she muttered to herself after putting in the order.
It did have an air of intimacy to it, though his hands and even his gaze never strayed. But his attention was very intently on her. The very few relationships he had had told him that sometimes he was too much so, despite his laid back demeanor. Too intense. Too much. It did likely appear to be a date, first or second, or even dancing around before a real first date. He wouldn't be surprised if his friends asked later.
Kit beamed back at her when she managed the board. "Excellent! Good job!" When she stepped back, he also stepped back a little, gracefully, to give her space, not having intended to fluster her. He did look after her as she left, a trifle worried.
"Sure you want us here?" Shell asked.
"Oh, yeah. We're just friends. She wants to see some of my work." A teasing glance, a skeptical glance, but he just rolled his eyes at them. When she approached again, he stepped forward to help her out with an easy smile.
That he seemed so considerate and respectful was only muddling things more in her head. She felt she was becoming quickly taken with him, and perhaps it was because everything was so stirred up in her head and heart lately as it was - finally admitting to Blaise that she was a lesbian, finding out Daphne was victim to the family curse, deciding to try to find a wizard to marry and fulfill her familial duty and receive her inheritance... It didn't escape her notice that Kit was a Higgs, that her parents would almost assuredly approve of him for that alone. But more than that, he was an artist and so clearly open-minded and good-natured, and she enjoyed their conversations thus far immensely.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Astoria," she breathed, distracted when the drinks were put on the bar in front of her. She picked them up carefully and headed back toward the group. She reminded herself that finding a husband was definitely not what tonight was about.
"Here we go!" she said, smiling back a little easier at Kit now that she'd given herself a mental talking-to and letting him take a couple of the drinks from her. "So, who will be going first?" she asked the others.
His smile was charming and welcoming as she rejoined them and he wasn't going to let any potential teasing happen right now. He took a couple of drinks and passed them out.
"I'll go first!" Maddox volunteered cheerfully, and the Scotsman stepped up with his handful of darts to start. True to his words, he didn't do well, but managed to hit the board all but once. Shell proceeded to rib him good naturedly and Kit joked too, making sure to include Astoria as they all began to take turns, recording scores only casually. They were more concerned about having fun.
The game was far more fun and relaxed than she might have expected, pleased that no one seemed to be annoyingly competitive. It put her at ease despite obviously being the worst player. She laughed and drank and generally had a good time, feeling a tiny bit proud that by the time they finished the game, she'd managed to hit the board every time for the last three turns.
"Some people make it look so easy!" she said with a laugh as she sat at the table next to where they were playing, holding her mug. Her cheeks had a natural flush from laughing and drinking, and she felt far more relaxed than she had in days.
"They do! It takes practice. I've been playing for years so it's not that bad for me." He wasn't the best but he was good and if he applied himself, he might have been even better. His color was also just a little high, and he had relaxed more naturally as they drank and had fun and joked around.
So he wasn't nearly as nervous as he had been earlier, though he couldn't say he was entirely without nerves. But he'd let her in this far, might as well finish it.
"You want to go see the things?" he asked easily, signalling Molly and handing her a credit card without waiting for the bill.
"I would love to," she answered with a smile. As he settled the bill, she stood up and pulled her jacket back on, hoping that he wouldn't be as nervous about sharing it with her now that they'd spent some time together in this setting and relaxed a bit more. And she really did feel more relaxed. She wasn't drunk by any means, but she had a comfortable buzz going.
"Ready?" she asked after he'd got his card back (what was that, anyway? She knew Muggle money, but the paper and coin sort, not whatever that was) and signed the slip of paper.
"Yup, let's go," he said. He tucked everything away, gave Molly an air kiss and got a playful smack for it, and was laughing softly as he offered Astoria his arm. "I'll see you at work tomorrow!" Shell trilled playfully after him, and he ducked his head and shook it as he pushed open the door for Astoria, simply waving a hand back over his shoulder at his friends.
"It's not far, if you don't mind walking." Two blocks over, two blocks down. Right near the university without being right in it. The night was cool but not cold, per se. Moving would keep the chill away though if she rathered he'd find somewhere to apparate them from.
Astoria laughed lightly at the by-play between Kit and Molly and then Shelly, tucking her hand in his offered arm naturally, not thinking anything of it. "I don't mind walking," she assured him, her kitten heels tapping against the concrete as they made their way down the walk.
"How did you choose this area? This University?" she asked curiously as they walked, hoping it was a question he wouldn't mind answering.
He loved this area, honestly. Scotland in general. He always accused Logan that it was his fault for having been there so much growing up. The accent, too. He enjoyed it.
"Mostly it was the program at the university," he admitted after a moment of thought. How much should he say. Not say. In the end though she already knew he was with the university. "It was the one I wanted to take, and so I did. But Logan kind of biased me towards Scotland anyway. So I blame him when the weather sucks." He gave her a cheeky grin. A small admission too that Logan, at least, knew about this.
"This university has one of the best art programs around though."
As they walked, she listened attentively, interested in what he was saying, in learning more about him. He was such an anomaly among most Pureblood men she knew, and it was truly refreshing. She didn't really connect the dots that Logan knew about this side of Kit's life, but it didn't take too much of a stretch for her to believe that was the case, as he was Kit's best friend.
"Does it? That's great. And now you're a part of providing that program, right?" If he were a Professor, she would assume it was in some form of art. "What do you teach?"
"Just a little part. I'm on as an associate professor and assistant, basically, in return for part of the tuition and the studio time and all. I mean, I do a lot of my creating at my flat, but I fire most of it at the studio, and all that." Though he had something to do the little things in when he wanted, but the big pieces were almost always at the facilities there.
"Right now I teach Mythology in Art and one of the beginning sculpture classes, and I assist with a couple of others as needed. So it's nothing much, don't let Shell fool you." But it was enough to keep him busy, especially with his own limited course work and the show and all. Plus the weekends which were alternately spent working on his stuff or showing off for cameras, or doing something to maintain the reputation he'd carefully crafted so no one would find out about this... passion.
As he explained more of it all, she had to think he was under-selling his part in things, because it sounded significant to her. But then, teaching any classes at all seemed like it would be a big deal. Though perhaps it wasn't as big of a deal in the Muggle world.
"I've never considered taking courses in the Muggle world. I'm not sure I'd be brave enough to do it, not without a solid foundation in the Muggle world." And she hadn't even taken Muggle Studies, so her knowledge base was fairly limited to the arts and a basic understanding of their money. "Mythology in Art sounds fascinating, though," she added, glancing sideways at him with a smile.