stars_and_money | A Random Coffee House, The Mainland, Friday Evening

~~Handwavily,~~ Jeremy and George had caught ~~meta for~~ The Graduate at a movie theater on the mainland. It had been... Well, they hadn't exactly caught that much of it, to be honest. But the opening credits had looked good! Really, top notch! Or something. Whatever. Movie theaters were dark and the back row was made for way better things than actually watching a movie. Hey, Jeremy could probably get a private showing of just about any movie with little more than a snap of his fingers, so, why bother resisting the temptation to make out, right?

It had been totally worth it.

And they were progressing to the second part of the date now, and that was coffee. "That is one kickass dress, by the way," Jeremy said, as he was holding the door open for George, entering some random, sort of fancy (but not too fancy) coffee place. "I think we make a pretty dashing pair."

From a guy wearing a flashy suit (as requested!) to a movie and coffee date, that was par for the course.

[ooc: NFB due to off-islandness, and just for the daaate who I just modded with kind permission!]

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... It really was kind of amazing that there wasn't just an audible sproing! to be heard when Jeremy's brain tried to catch up with what had just happened. See, he'd just been getting into the kissing again, because kissing was nice, and it was starting to be really nice with her, and then... Well, she'd stopped, and said something that was sort of not making any sense.

He wasn't running away. He also wasn't really getting it yet, either. He was, however, staring at her in an owlish, confused manner from the very close proximity.

"Wh-- huh?"

Yeah.

Why the fuck had she felt the need to do that? Why just ruin everything like that? Fuck fuck fuck.

George slumped back in her seat and bit her lower lip, not looking up at him. Just because her eyes were open didn't mean she had to look at him.

"I'm a reaper," she said. "... Sorry."

She wasn't sure if she was apologizing for not telling him sooner, or for telling him at all. Or maybe for, well, being dead. Although if he was upset about that, the line started behind her.

"You're a what?" Still processing, yes. "Uh, did you just say you died? As in, dead, deceased, muerto?"

He was still looking more confused than anything else.

"You, uh, look good."

For a dead person.

"Yeah," George said, running a hand through her hair. "That kind of dead. Dead-dead."

She wasn't sure if it was better to talk, or wait for him to process more? But he mentioned about her looking good, for being dead, so maybe she should explain about, uh, not being a zombie. Maybe.

"Most people ... they, uh. They die, and then their soul gets taken to see their lights, and they move on to what's next. And some people die and don't get the lights, because they have to wait around showing other people their lights. It's like the worst job ever, you don't get a say in it, everybody blames you, and you don't even get paid for it. And if you try to save somebody, it screws up the cosmic order, and you just have to fucking deal with it, and ... um ... then you fucking ... announce shit in a coffee shop and ... um ... ruin dates."

... Good. That probably helped, George. A lot.

Edited 2011-11-06 01:44 (UTC)

Jeremy blinked a lot at that explanation. To be honest, a lot of it went straight over his head. He'd try and understand more of it later on. For now, he was just going to cling to that one bit he did understand without too much trouble.

"I don't think this date is ruined," he offered.

Okay, that had two immediate effects: it stopped the runaway train that was her mouth, and it now had her staring at him like maybe her brain had just thrown a rod. What the --

"... How ..."

Um.

"This is kind of ..."

Jeremy was not on a date with a very eloquent girl. He should have realized that one ahead of time.

Had she not heard his brilliant utterance of 'Wh-- huh?' just a little earlier? Clearly, eloquence had stopped being a requirement on this date just a few moments ago.

"Well, you know," he started, now that he was starting to regain control of his brain again. "I mean, it's not like you're a zombie, right? And you're not a dude. And, and, uh... And okay, I don't really get what you are, uh, professionally and also on the living to dead scale, but, but you're George. Right? You're George, and your dress is maximum, and I still like you, so... Date's not ruined."

Ramble some more, Jeremy.

"I'm still George," she reassured him. "I just -- I love that suit and kind of want to take it off with my teeth and, um, so I thought you deserved to know, if it was gonna change things? Instead of feeling like I lied about it, but ... I also didn't want you to not ... want to make out with me and I love that you love bad movies and I ... just ... like being around you."

... good. That was perfect, right there, that was definitely helpful. She should just duct tape her mouth shut.

"I get that it ... might be weird," she added. "With -- whatever."

"It's not weird," Jeremy said quickly. Reassuring girls was kind of built into him, too. He hesitated a moment after saying that. "Okay, I mean, yeah it is. It's a little weird."

Because she was dead. Except she was living and breathing and talking about taking his suit off with her teeth, which meant she was lucky his brain hadn't gotten jammed again.

"But, I don't... I don't think it changes things? That much."

George was nodding. "I'm sorry you don't even get an interesting story out of it," she said, impulsively. "I mean, you tell your friends you made out with a dead chick, it sounds like you're a mortician with a sick fetish."

Um. So much for the gallows humor. Now was a good time to pick up her very-neglected coffee and take a long, long sip.

"I get that it's huge," she said. "I mean ... if you need time, or whatever. We can just ..."

Hmmm. "You tell me," she decided.

If he wanted to just ... walk home, and think about it, or take some time off, or even say he was taking time off in order to sound polite when he bailed. That would kind of be totally legit at this point.

"Uh."

Yeah, Jeremy was a slight loss for words. This was not really something he'd ever had to deal with the socialites back home.

"Can I still... walk you home?"

When in doubt, he opted for the polite. And hopefully a little reassuring. Even though he was probably going to take a while to process this.

George finished her coffee and set it down again.

"I'd like that," she said.

She wasn't going to push. She was going to give him space, and wait for him to come to her. If he did.

He may decide he wasn't okay with it, and she had to be okay with that, and that was one of those growing-up things she had to do, which was ironic what with being dead and all. It was only fair that he know. She figured. But it didn't make it hurt any less to think that he might never want to see her again.

Now really wasn't the time to sit and be stupid or emo. Now was the time to wrap her coat around herself and offer him the best smile she could manage.

"Let's get out of here."

A Random Coffee House, The Mainland, Friday Evening

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