necroslacker | abandoned makeout shack; wednesday evening

Current Mood: hopeful

Entry tags:

abandoned makeout shack; wednesday evening

So, it was Natalie's first birthday with Sam as her boyfriend and Sam kind of wanted to make that a memorable experience for her. Of course, that had been before this week had come along, leaving everyone wanting to jump everyone else at a moment's notice. Sam went ahead with his plans though. He found his way down to the cabins, picked one and actually started filling it with books, trying to make it resemble a library of some sort. Then, he set up a small table and two chairs, complete with candle in the center.

The food, it was takeout, but it was still hot and Sam was in a suit (different from the one at the dance) that included a vest and that was rocking pinstripes. He'd been going for dinner in a library setting since he knew how much she loved books and while having dinner in an actual library wasn't happening, he had money, he could buy books and then give them all to her if she hadn't read them before. He'd lugged his record player down as well, giving them some softer music playing to add background noise.

Now, it would be a struggle to see if they could get through dinner but Sam would try. And he was currently waiting outside the cabin for Natalie since he'd had her meet him there so he could set up and surprise her.

[For the birthday girl only, please!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sam's mouth went a little dry at the sight of her. Between the dress and the cleavage and her hair, his skin was tingling already. Not jumping her was going to take some effort. He swallowed and smiled at her.

"Hey," he returned, offering a hand to her. "You look amazing. Happy birthday, Nat."

"Thanks," Natalie replied with a smile, as she took his hand and wanted to sigh at how even that managed to feel warmer than usual. Sigh, island. "Seventeen. Getting closer to a legal adult."

"You counting down the days until legality?" Sam asked, tugging her closer and smiling. "How's the day been so far? Talk to your parents?"

"Talked to my parents," she confirmed, willingly stepping closer, fingers sort of itching to feel the fabric of his suit, anyway. "Got their present this morning and called them. Told them we were celebrating alone."

"We?" Sam asked, slipping his arm around her waist and smiling. "Told them about me, hmm?"

He figured she had but it was nice to hear.

"Hope they approve."

"Well, they don't know about the necromancy or the... skipping dances to sleep together instead." She sounded gently amused, leaning into him just a little. "So they approve."

"You...probably shouldn't tell them about that," he murmured, leaning closer to kiss her lightly. "I think they'd get the wrong idea on several different fronts."

"Don't worry," Natalie replied quietly, and perhaps a touch distractedly. His fault for coming so close. "I keep my stuff to myself."

He'd probably noticed.

"I'd noticed," he said, smiling down at her fondly. "So, I set something up for you inside. Wanna take a look?"

It'd mean they'd be inside before he attempted to jump her, if anything. See, he was focused on not giving anyone a show.

Even if where they were the audience was likely to be one of teal deer and alots and whatever else roamed the area.

"Of course," she said, with a light nod and a lighter smile. "Lead the way."

Sam grinned and tugged on her hand so he could lead her inside. When he opened the door, the light from the candles that he'd set around the shack were going to be the only points of illumination. He hoped she was able to see the books stacked and surrounding their small table and he hoped it gave off the look of a small library.

He'd tried hard to make it something out of her dreams, something that she'd remember and he hoped he'd succeeded. There were flowers in the center of the table and he'd hidden a few gifts for her in one of the corners. His record player was still playing some softer, jazzy music as well.

A smile spread slowly across Natalie's face as she took the scene in. It was... better than anything anyone else had ever done for her. It was beautiful, to her.

"It's a candlelit dinner. In a library."

Because she got what he'd been going for, yes. She turned and reached up to give him a quick peck on the lips. You know. As a thank you.

"Or the closest to a library I could get actually get without renting out an actual library," he said, pleased by her reaction. "All the books are yours, though. I bought 'em but don't need 'em. Figured you could pick out the ones you want and I'll give the rest to a local shelter or something."

Oh, he was just pulling several right strings with her right now. She was seriously impressed, and the pleased little smile she gave him said as much.

"So," she said, stepping back a little to move to shrug her jacket off (enjoy those bare shoulders, Sam), "what's for dinner?"

"Your shoulders."

That...wasn't the right answer. Sam blinked and shook his head.

"Uh, I mean, pasta! Italian stuff so I can eat what you're eating and not have to pick out meat or anything. You like fettuccine?"

"Yeah," Natalie replied, not particularly bothering to hide her amusement at that wrong answer.

Hey, they were nice shoulders. "Fettuccine is fine."

"Good," Sam said, laughing and rubbing his face. He held the chair out for her and said, "Have a seat. I'll go into the kitchen and whip up some fettuccine."

Or he'd go over to the plates and take the tops off. That was cooking for Sam LaCroix.

Natalie snorted, but took her seat, smoothing the skirt over her thighs once she had.

"Didn't quite take you for a gourmet chef."

Ugh, thighs. Why were her thighs so perfect? Sam had to take a breath and steel himself to walk over to the plates. He exhaled.

"Well, that's just an assumption you shouldn't have made," he said, taking off the tops and then making a show of looking pleased with himself. He settled her plate in front of her and then took his own seat with his plate.

"Am I doing okay?" he asked after a few moment's of silence.

Natalie gave him an amused look for the question. "You're doing great," she said, picking up some pasta with her fork. "Not lame at all. I'm impressed."

She both meant and didn't mean that.

"Thanks," he said, chuckling. He shrugged. "I had some time to plan. You're lucky I just didn't bring you to a hotel again. I thought about it."

Sorry about those mental images, Natalie.

He should've just been forbidden from talking about hotels at all. The random thrill of memory Natalie had just experienced decreed it so.

"Well, we already did that," she remarked, after a... deep breath. "This is new and different."

"True," he mumbled, ducking his head to quickly eat some pasta. "We already did and so tonight we...won't do that?"

Was that right?

"Go to a hotel? Probably not." Oooh, semantic accuracy was a friend. Except she wasn't sure she believed herself, and she really wasn't going to make any claims about... any other stuff.

She'd just nonchalantly eat some pasta right now.

"Right! No hotel."

He swallowed and ate some pasta.

"Want me to be really lame?"

He had a way to do that, oh yes.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject