Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 12, 2009 19:49:51 GMT -5
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events or any of its characters or places. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler.
Rating: G
Genre: General/Romance
Story-Type: One-Shot
Summary: Just a little something I whipped up that depicts the first meeting between Kit Snicket and Dewey Denouement.
Author’s Note: This is a birthday gift to my good friend, Elle, who is a fabulous artist and the biggest Kiwi fan I know. I hope you like it.
He was seventeen the first time he saw her.
Dewey Denouement was sitting in the back row of the auditorium, his face hidden behind his commonplace book. For the past ten minutes, he had been watching the girl race back and forth across the stage. She was presumably his own age, perhaps even a year younger, with a heart-shaped face and an average stature. Her dark blonde hair was tied tightly up in a bun, with a pair of pencils sticking out on each side. One of her arms was loaded down with stage props, and she raised up her other hand in order to slide her movie star-style glasses back up the bridge of her nose. In doing so, she turned to see the young man staring back at her.
From far away the girl appeared to be a bit plain to look at, but Dewey felt safe in assuming that would all change once they were standing face to face.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before,” he said.
“Well, that isn’t surprising,” the girl’s voice echoed back across the auditorium. “I tend to blend in.”
Realizing how silly it is for two parties to be situated on opposite sides of the room during a conversation, Dewey made his way in between the two rows of seats to the stage. He was tall enough so that he could climb onstage without the use of stairs, and was somewhat surprised when the girl set aside her props to grasp his hands in hers.
As he rose to his full height of six-foot-three, Dewey saw that the girl’s eyes were the brightest, most startling shade of blue he had ever seen, which was a welcoming contrast to his average hazel ones. He wasn’t entirely amazed that his predictions had come true, as the girl was very pretty close up, though she didn’t appear to have any if much makeup on. This was another thing that proved to be a positive change to Dewey, as so many of the girls in his class caked their faces in bright, overpowering eye-shadow and lipstick.
“I wouldn’t say you blended in,” he opposed.
“Oh?” asked the girl. “If that’s true, then why have you never noticed me until now?”
“V.F.D. has an enormous campus, with a student body of more than seven-hundred.” Dewey grinned sheepishly and then looked both ways, as if he thought someone might be eavesdropping on their conversation. “Though I’ve never known any of them to be as attractive as you.”
The girl blushed, and raised her hand to nervously tuck a bit of blonde hair back behind her ear. “No,” she answered modestly. “I’m hardly that.”
Dewey wasn’t accustomed to trying to change the opinions of girls with confidence issues. He knew so many whose egos were the size of the Dewey Decimal System alone, and felt that whatever he had to say would only serve to stroke their egos.
Conversely, Dewey had been able to tell by the girl’s preceding words that she suffered from a low level of self-worth. She may not have been able to see what he did as he stared dreamily into her eyes, but it was still there, and was every bit as clear as his parents’ hotel was vast.
“Oh, but I beg to differ,” Dewey said at last, smiling gently as the girl’s blush deepened. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
The girl’s eyes darted to the side behind her glasses, but the shy smile on her pale pink lips indicated that she found his words to be quite flattering. Rather than stand around and make the her feel uncomfortable, Dewey decided to take a separate approach altogether.
“I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves,” he said, and held out his hand. “I’m Dewey Denouement.”
The girl seemed a bit taken aback by his method of introduction, but smiled all the same. “I’m Kit,” she replied, and shook his hand in return. “Kit Snicket.”
“Are you an actress?”
The look she gave Dewey put forth the impression that she didn’t quite believe him, or that she thought he might be making fun of her. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, this is the place in which acting classes are held,” Dewey stated.
“I’m the stagehand,” Kit explained, and watched him raise a dubious eyebrow. “I’ve been told that I have a sufficient singing voice and moderate acting capabilities. But I’m shy, and that makes it difficult to perform effectively in front of large audiences.”
Kit shrugged, and Dewey took it as a sign that she had nothing more to say on the subject. Though he couldn’t relate to being shy, he did understand the aspiration of going through life unnoticed. He had always been a very private person, though was perfectly willing to make conversation with those who approached him. Theoretically, Dewey had taken a rather big step in approaching Kit, a notion which would occur to him later that night just as he was drifting off to sleep.
“I suppose it does seem rather silly,” Kit admitted finally, once the silence between her and Dewey had settled. “Seeing as most of the people I associate with are those I’ve known all my life.”
Giving Kit a reassuring smile, Dewey reached for her hands. “Come over to the steps with me,” he said.
He led her by the hands and over to the far left corner of the stage where they sat down. Kit’s legs dangled off the edge, while Dewey’s feet came to rest on the floor.
“Are you free this afternoon?” he asked.
Kit raised her head, and blinked her eyes curiously behind her glasses. “Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” she replied. “Why?”
“Well, I thought you might like to go somewhere and get some coffee with me.”
“That depends.”
Had Dewey misjudged Kit’s signals? He was well aware that he could sometimes be a bit dimwitted when it came to girls, but he wasn’t stupid. He was just about to tell her that he was perfectly willing to wait while she thought over his proposal, when she said something he hadn’t expected.
“What it all depends on,” Kit concluded, “is if we can make mine tea instead of coffee. I must confess that I favor tea over most beverages.” She paused then, and smiled subtly. “Though it must always be as bitter as wormwood and sharp as a two-edged sword.”
“Normally I would prefer sugar in my tea,” Dewey said. “But I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
“Like a date.”
Dewey stood up and then turned around, offering his hands to Kit as she had to him earlier. She placed her small, delicate hands in his larger ones, and he helped her slide easily off the stage.
Dewey drew his skinny arm around Kit, she leaned her head against his shoulder. They made their way to the front doors of the auditorium, and together stepped out into the courtyard.
Rating: G
Genre: General/Romance
Story-Type: One-Shot
Summary: Just a little something I whipped up that depicts the first meeting between Kit Snicket and Dewey Denouement.
Author’s Note: This is a birthday gift to my good friend, Elle, who is a fabulous artist and the biggest Kiwi fan I know. I hope you like it.
***
He was seventeen the first time he saw her.
Dewey Denouement was sitting in the back row of the auditorium, his face hidden behind his commonplace book. For the past ten minutes, he had been watching the girl race back and forth across the stage. She was presumably his own age, perhaps even a year younger, with a heart-shaped face and an average stature. Her dark blonde hair was tied tightly up in a bun, with a pair of pencils sticking out on each side. One of her arms was loaded down with stage props, and she raised up her other hand in order to slide her movie star-style glasses back up the bridge of her nose. In doing so, she turned to see the young man staring back at her.
From far away the girl appeared to be a bit plain to look at, but Dewey felt safe in assuming that would all change once they were standing face to face.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before,” he said.
“Well, that isn’t surprising,” the girl’s voice echoed back across the auditorium. “I tend to blend in.”
Realizing how silly it is for two parties to be situated on opposite sides of the room during a conversation, Dewey made his way in between the two rows of seats to the stage. He was tall enough so that he could climb onstage without the use of stairs, and was somewhat surprised when the girl set aside her props to grasp his hands in hers.
As he rose to his full height of six-foot-three, Dewey saw that the girl’s eyes were the brightest, most startling shade of blue he had ever seen, which was a welcoming contrast to his average hazel ones. He wasn’t entirely amazed that his predictions had come true, as the girl was very pretty close up, though she didn’t appear to have any if much makeup on. This was another thing that proved to be a positive change to Dewey, as so many of the girls in his class caked their faces in bright, overpowering eye-shadow and lipstick.
“I wouldn’t say you blended in,” he opposed.
“Oh?” asked the girl. “If that’s true, then why have you never noticed me until now?”
“V.F.D. has an enormous campus, with a student body of more than seven-hundred.” Dewey grinned sheepishly and then looked both ways, as if he thought someone might be eavesdropping on their conversation. “Though I’ve never known any of them to be as attractive as you.”
The girl blushed, and raised her hand to nervously tuck a bit of blonde hair back behind her ear. “No,” she answered modestly. “I’m hardly that.”
Dewey wasn’t accustomed to trying to change the opinions of girls with confidence issues. He knew so many whose egos were the size of the Dewey Decimal System alone, and felt that whatever he had to say would only serve to stroke their egos.
Conversely, Dewey had been able to tell by the girl’s preceding words that she suffered from a low level of self-worth. She may not have been able to see what he did as he stared dreamily into her eyes, but it was still there, and was every bit as clear as his parents’ hotel was vast.
“Oh, but I beg to differ,” Dewey said at last, smiling gently as the girl’s blush deepened. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
The girl’s eyes darted to the side behind her glasses, but the shy smile on her pale pink lips indicated that she found his words to be quite flattering. Rather than stand around and make the her feel uncomfortable, Dewey decided to take a separate approach altogether.
“I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves,” he said, and held out his hand. “I’m Dewey Denouement.”
The girl seemed a bit taken aback by his method of introduction, but smiled all the same. “I’m Kit,” she replied, and shook his hand in return. “Kit Snicket.”
“Are you an actress?”
The look she gave Dewey put forth the impression that she didn’t quite believe him, or that she thought he might be making fun of her. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, this is the place in which acting classes are held,” Dewey stated.
“I’m the stagehand,” Kit explained, and watched him raise a dubious eyebrow. “I’ve been told that I have a sufficient singing voice and moderate acting capabilities. But I’m shy, and that makes it difficult to perform effectively in front of large audiences.”
Kit shrugged, and Dewey took it as a sign that she had nothing more to say on the subject. Though he couldn’t relate to being shy, he did understand the aspiration of going through life unnoticed. He had always been a very private person, though was perfectly willing to make conversation with those who approached him. Theoretically, Dewey had taken a rather big step in approaching Kit, a notion which would occur to him later that night just as he was drifting off to sleep.
“I suppose it does seem rather silly,” Kit admitted finally, once the silence between her and Dewey had settled. “Seeing as most of the people I associate with are those I’ve known all my life.”
Giving Kit a reassuring smile, Dewey reached for her hands. “Come over to the steps with me,” he said.
He led her by the hands and over to the far left corner of the stage where they sat down. Kit’s legs dangled off the edge, while Dewey’s feet came to rest on the floor.
“Are you free this afternoon?” he asked.
Kit raised her head, and blinked her eyes curiously behind her glasses. “Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” she replied. “Why?”
“Well, I thought you might like to go somewhere and get some coffee with me.”
“That depends.”
Had Dewey misjudged Kit’s signals? He was well aware that he could sometimes be a bit dimwitted when it came to girls, but he wasn’t stupid. He was just about to tell her that he was perfectly willing to wait while she thought over his proposal, when she said something he hadn’t expected.
“What it all depends on,” Kit concluded, “is if we can make mine tea instead of coffee. I must confess that I favor tea over most beverages.” She paused then, and smiled subtly. “Though it must always be as bitter as wormwood and sharp as a two-edged sword.”
“Normally I would prefer sugar in my tea,” Dewey said. “But I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
“Like a date.”
Dewey stood up and then turned around, offering his hands to Kit as she had to him earlier. She placed her small, delicate hands in his larger ones, and he helped her slide easily off the stage.
Dewey drew his skinny arm around Kit, she leaned her head against his shoulder. They made their way to the front doors of the auditorium, and together stepped out into the courtyard.
The End