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Post by Jenny on May 18, 2007 10:46:28 GMT -5
She pushed him a little. 'Don't tese,' she said dramatically, taking the sandwiches and wine off him to put carefully into a very country-fied woven basket with a small mat for them to sit on.
As soon as he gave the go ahead to leave she rushed away and was standing beside his car for at least two minutes before he got there at an ordinary walking pace.
'Being this eager makes you look like such a nerd,' he muttered before he opened the door. She stuck her tongue out at him and climbed into the passenger seat with the basket on her lap. Suddenly Olaf felt as if he was taking a small child to the beach with him to make sand castles.
That's what she was, really. He treated her like she was older than she was, buit if he thought about it she was only still a girl. One, at that, who he'd never taken the time to take to the beach before.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on May 18, 2007 20:52:28 GMT -5
The beach was great. It was that time of year were it stayed warm all day until deep night time and there wasn't wind. they ate on the beach, virtually alone, the summer months had long sicne gone. Fall was a pretty time at the beach. She looked at him. He was well into his thrid glass. She had brought water to drink. Suddenly she felt....young.
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Post by freeeagle on May 19, 2007 15:02:53 GMT -5
Soon, it was time for research class. Bea sat next to Jerome, looking at him every so often. She kept catching herself at it. She pulled the ribbon from her dark hair and let it cascade around her shoulders, putting a veil between the two. But soon she was peeking around it. She passed him a note and whispered that he pass it to Lemony in the row beside him.
I can't make it for root beer floats tonight. I realised that I need to practice lines for the play. Beatrice
No "love" or "sorry" just the signature at the bottom. She looked past Jerome this time and saw Lemony frown. She felt guilty, and wasn't sure why she had lied. Then her eyes found Jerome again and she split into a smile.
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Post by Jenny on May 20, 2007 6:45:32 GMT -5
(I'll post as both now. Olaf in pink and Jerome in lime green just to make the colour scheme disgusting.)
Jerome glaned back at Beatrice, who hastily looked away when their eyes met.
Now, the only time girls did thiws looking away and blushing thing as far as Jerome knew was when they had a crush on someone. But that couldn't be the case with Beatrice. For one thing she wasn't the type to go around blushing and being all shy.
'Are you alright?' she'd been avoiding looking at him for the last couple of minutes, staring ahead at the board as if she was interested in codes.
She looked back and avoided eye contact. 'Fine,' her reply was too quick to be honest. She looked up to meet his eyes suddenly.
'Would you like to go for another tea later. We didn't talk much today.' she asked.
'When?'
'This afternoon at four,' she decided.
'Aren't you going for root beer floats with Lemony?'
She didn't even consider. 'Not anymore.'
x
Olaf downed the last bit of his wine to notice Esme was studying him with an expression on her face he wasn't sure he understood.
'What?' he asked uncaringly.
'Nothing,' she said, before her true admittance. 'Am I---'
'No.'
She folded her arms sulkily. 'Hear me out,' she said sternly. At her tone he quickly looked back, swirling around his fourth glass of wine.
'Am I far too young for you?'
'Yes,' he said truthfully, and immediately. 'I thought that was one of the reasons we were together in the first place.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on May 20, 2007 11:43:49 GMT -5
"Is that like...a...um...turn oon for you or something?" she asked.
"Why wouldn't it be? Women my age are getting older...their colours start to fade, skin starts to wrinkle...some gain weight...you on the other hand are like elastic. You can grab your skin anywhere and ti will snap back into place. " Olaf laughed.
"Is that why you like me? The sex part?" she asked.
"Well partially of course....what man at any age could resist you? But there's also that look to have when you come in from on stage. It's that glow that someone get's when they live off making their audience feel. You really are a quick witted, funny girl. And I'm sure if you were twentyI would have no problem having a permanent realationship with you."
"This isn't permanent?"
"Of course not. This can only go on for so long before other people start to suspect and then big bang boom.....I'm fired, you're expelled, and we're both too miserable to even care about each other." Olaf explained.
"That's love for you." She groaned.
He laughed out loud but in his head he wanted to tell her. I never said anything about love.
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Post by Jenny on May 20, 2007 12:06:54 GMT -5
(Aww! The neverending Eslaf argument before Book 13. Was it ever anything more than money and fame?)
She was visibly unhappier after the conversation and ate nothing else for the entire time they were there-- a sure sign of being upset for her, if ever she went through a depressed phase she would eat as little as possible and worry everyone around her until something made her happy again.
As they climbed back into his car together, neither saying anything, finally she cleared her throat and looked over at him as he started the engine up.
'Are we ok?'
He said nothing, nodding because that was no binding contract.
x
When the arrived back at the school they had had only fleeting conversations and mainly the radio did the talking for them, preventing too much uncomfortable silence.
She grabbed his arm as they both went their seperate ways back to her dorm and him to his office.
'Do you love me?'
She had obviosuly been considering it for a long time on the car ride home. It was the worst question she could have asked him because it was the hardest to answer.
Only his acting skills would save him now.
He tucked a curl behind her ear affectioanely and kissed her cheek. 'Don't worry too much about it,' he said, flinching himself once he heard himself say it.
As soon as he'd found the nerve to pull away and walk back to his office, when he couldn't see her, Esme broke into a run back to her room, pushing past Beatrice and that nerd who were outside and wiping away her tears before slamming the door.
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Post by freeeagle on May 20, 2007 15:57:33 GMT -5
(We're skipping to them meeting for tea then, I'll assume?)
Beatrice had been standing by the gate with Jerome, changed into a soft aqua skirt and a light gray cable-knit crew neck sweater. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she smelled of cranberries. Beautiful, against the autumn foliage trough which a few rays of sunlight illuminated her smiling face. That was when Esme had burst between them crying, running for the dormitories.
"Was that Esme?" Jerome asked, confused as to why a beautiful, happy girl like her could cry.
"I'll check on her. I'll be back, I promise." she told him, taking off after her friend. She followed her up the stairs, to her dorm room.
"Esme?" she called out to the green wood, "Are you in there?"
"Go away Beatrice." she said through sobs.
"Esme, tell me what's wrong." she said, standing her ground.
"I'm fine!" she yelled in anger. Couldn't the girl just leave her be?
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Post by Jenny on May 20, 2007 16:32:34 GMT -5
Beatrice shrugged to Jerome, taking his arm in a friendly but not too friendly way.
'I don't know what upset her,' she said. 'But I'm sure if it's a worry she'll tell me later. Anyway, where are we going for tea?'
Jerome was looking at the door as if hoping Esme might emerge to assure him she wasn't too upset, but she didn't. He smiled and they walked off out of the grounds, Lemony frowning at them from his first floor window.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on May 20, 2007 21:45:02 GMT -5
After a long time thinking and crying she put on her favorite light blue sundress. It always made her feel better. She had nothing better to do, so she started to reapply her make up. Next thing she knew she was curling her blonde curls intonicley shaped ringlettes. She was almost in a trace when she sprayed the perfume and picked out sandles. Tehn she headed for the door.
Her high heels made a familiar sound as they made contact with the hallways floor. Almost everyone was in bed by this time, and yet her roommates were both off somewhere. She walked across the lawn and to the brick building across from teh dorms. She turned the knob on the door and let herself in.
The wood halways were familiar, although currently deserted. The teacher's dorms were open to students during the day for meetings and discussions. Esme walked the stairs up to the second floor, 3rd door on the left. It was never locked.
He was still up, he always was. He was working at his desk under only one lamp. Olaf looked up. He blinked a couple of times before wuietly saying; "I've never seen you look quite so pretty."
She closed the door behind her and walked to him, sitting on his knee. "Better than the beach outfit?" she asked.
"Darling. The beach outfit was fine." Olaf chuckled.
"But you didn't like it." Esme pouted.
"You look amazing now." he kissed her, the well applied red lipstick leaving a mark on his mouth. He thoguht about it for a minute. She may have over anaylized to the point of concluding that he didn't love her because she didn't look pretty for him. He didn't say anything.
The room was small and white with a simple bed and desk. It was cozy but not ugly. Esme liked sleeping over here because Olaf's bed was so comfy. He claimed that in order to fully preform you need a good nights sleep and got all the staff these beds. It was a clever move.
"I love you." It was a test. She was daring him to deny her. Tell her no and comfirm all her worst fears.
He smiled at her. "You too." he said and kissed her. A contract....with fine print had been created.
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Post by freeeagle on May 21, 2007 7:16:29 GMT -5
(Um, it's only around four in the afternoon Hanna.)
Beatrice and Jerome walked to a small tea shop near Briny Beach, where the sun was shining beautifully over the water. Beatrice let out a gasp at the pretty sight, the sparkling sand and sea, set against the brilliant foliage. She squeezed Jerome's hand lightly.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, awestruck. She put a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. Jerome had been quiet for a while now.
"It certainly is." replied Jerome, giving Beatrice a strange look who's underlying emotion she couldn't place.
"Why don't we head into the tea shop?" she suggested, after a few minutes of staring at the beautiful scenery.
Jerome checked his watch. "It's almost five thirty. Maybe we should get dinner instead. I'm getting hungry myself. You know, I know a place, called the Veritable French Diner with a delicious menu." he said.
"That sounds wonderful Jerome. How far is it?" she asked. Her feet were already starting to hurt.
"Not far at all. Just around that corner." he told her comfortingly.
They began to walk and soon they were standing in the most exquisite, opulent, romantic restaurant she had ever been to. Candles in ornate silver holders sat on every table, and the electric chandeliers on the ceiling had been dimmed. Waiters in black suits circulated the room, taking orders and balancing mouthwatering dishes on silver trays. The tables were covered in stark white cloth and set with china. There was no way two schoolchildren could afford any of this.
"Jerome, you know I can't pay for this." she told him, lines of worry creasing her brow.
"Don 't worry you won't have to. I will." he said with a smile.
"How can you possibly?" she asked incredulously.
"I am an heir to the Squalor fortune. My parents send me a weekly allowance that I can never hope to spend." he replied nonchalantly.
"Really? If that's what you want..." she trailed off.
A greeter collected their coats, and a waiter showed them to a small table for two. He handed them their menus, and they began to figure out what they were going to order.
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Post by Jenny on May 21, 2007 14:32:58 GMT -5
(Sorry about the skippage. It's fine we'll just rp at different times)
----Jerome---
The restaurant was beautiful as far as Beatrice could see, and she looked around strangely feeling a little out of place in a short skirt.
'How much does it cost?' the menu didn't say.
'No one knows until they charge you,' he grinned.
'How much do your parents pay you?' she laughed.
'An incredible amount,' he said cheerfully. 'I'm an only child, who else are they going to give it to? It all goes straight in a bank because I never spend it.'
'Glad to be of some help,' she laughed as the waiter came back with their drinks-- Jerome had ordered something expensive, Beatrice a lemonade.
---Olaf---
She made herself comfortable at his desk on a swivel chair and he pulled up another chair to sit in front of her as if in a business appointment.
'I could get used to this you know,' she said. 'The twisty chair, the desk....'
'The incredibly handsome man sitting in front of you...' he joked.
'Of course.'
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Post by Hanna Squalor on May 21, 2007 18:58:41 GMT -5
(Mine required a skip forward otherwise I would be waiting by myself, which sucks.)
Olaf brought her foot up into his lamp. He held it with one palm and gently undid the clasp on the side of the sandal with the other.
He did the same for the other sandal she watched him with a faint smile. All was better. He pulled her closer, the chair rolling her toward him.
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Post by Jenny on May 22, 2007 13:48:50 GMT -5
She was still a little distant, still a little unsure
'Are we OK now?' she asked, her feet still on top of his desk, shaking her hair out properly from the hairspray she'd applied to make it perfect earlier.
'We were never anything but,' he said softly.
'I disagree.'
'Stop arguing I'm trying to be sweet,' he laughed, hoarsely.
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Post by Hanna Squalor on May 22, 2007 21:15:25 GMT -5
Esme suddenly started to laugh. She lumped into his lap. "Ever just want to dance?" she asked, spinning off in the other direction. She laughed freely twirling happily.
Olaf thought perhaps she had gone mad.
(Sorry.....I'm listening to Wicked for the first time ever and it's made me happy.....)
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Post by Jenny on May 23, 2007 11:24:38 GMT -5
(Wicked is love.)
She dragged him up from his seat. He felt like he was wearing concrete shoes he was so rooted to the spot.
'Come on. Have fun.' she said.
'It's too late at night for fun sweetheart,' he coaxed.
'And stop treating me like I'm six. Just because you can't dance,' she tempted.
He chuckled a little to himself. 'Maybe not. But it's not like I don't know how to have fun.'
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