resurrects dead journal for Alasdair
Oct. 12th, 2017 04:11 pmThere's a shopping bag in Eden's arms as she approaches the table where Alasdair sits, waiting for her. Not one of the brightly colored or ominously calligraphed ones that signifies a Shopping Expedition, just your average canvas grocery bag, something neutral and unlabeled, although it does appear to be quite bulky. But that would be because it's packed with novels she'd borrowed from Alasdair a couple months back, novels she's finished and has many, many pressing questions about. Which is what this lunch date is all about, really; that, and the fact that she just enjoys his company. Nothing at all untoward about two adults who are simply enjoying discovering (or rediscovering) a friendship dormant for years.
The heels of her boots click on the pavement as she comes up behind him, the first clue of her arrival, the second swift behind it a kiss she brushes against his cheek as she leans in, faint scent of perfume and strawberry shampoo wafting around her. A brief greeting, before she slides in to her seat across the table from him, bag gently deposited on the ground at her feet as she sparkles brightly at him.
"Hello, darling. Sorry I'm late. Waiting long?"
The heels of her boots click on the pavement as she comes up behind him, the first clue of her arrival, the second swift behind it a kiss she brushes against his cheek as she leans in, faint scent of perfume and strawberry shampoo wafting around her. A brief greeting, before she slides in to her seat across the table from him, bag gently deposited on the ground at her feet as she sparkles brightly at him.
"Hello, darling. Sorry I'm late. Waiting long?"