slow dance meme

[memesmemes]

slow dancing ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ a meme → COMMENT WITH YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME, FANDOM, AND PREFERENCE. → PICK A CHARACTER YOU WANT TO TAG AND GO FOR IT. → PLAY NICE; NO WANK, FLAMES, OR GENERAL HUMBUGGERY. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ the deal FORMAL OR INFORMAL, WITH MUSIC OR WITHOUT, YOU COULD BE AT A GLAMOUROUS GALA WHILE A SINGER CROONS SOFTLY OR IN THE SILENCE OF YOUR OWN LIVING ROOM. WHEREVER YOU ARE, YOU HAVE THE URGE TO DANCE. DID YOU ASK YOUR PARTNER OR DID THEY ASK YOU? HAVE YOU GOT TWO LEFT FEET OR IS THE VIENNESE WALTZ YOUR JAM? IT COULD BE AWKWARD, IT COULD BE ROMANTIC. EITHER WAY IT'S CUTE AS HELL.

Comments

jane durand | original character

[lessens]

[broil]

[This is the most boring party on Earth, he's guessing, and she's the cutest girl here, he's sure. So without a speck of shame he walks up to her and shows a hand.]

Nice shoes. Wanna dance?

[lessens]

[ What? ]

What?

[ Jane looks at his outstretched hand a little bit like it's a foreign object, or one of those hors d'oeuvres that look like a fish placenta. ]

Sorry?

[broil]

You won't be in about ten seconds. C'mon, pretty lady, let me show you some moves.

[flicks fingers. Chop chop.]

[lessens]

[ She flushes pink, obviously too flustered to say no — more about abruptness than what dancing like that implies.

Jane kind of— awkwardly, gingerly places her hand in his. ]

I'm, um, Jane.

[broil]

Jane! Petre. Yes, that's European.

[He smiles tightly, obviously not even remotely near the levels of shyness she's showing. Let's dance.]

Can I put my hand on your hip, or will that just get me a slap?

arrives 30 memes late with starbucks jUST TAKE IT IT'S ALL I HAVE

[croon]

[ It's easier to turn himself into someone people'll want when he's performing onstage. Or, rather, it's easier to step into that kind of confidence. (Performing is the wrong word for what he does — even if he's not a liar by nature, music's where he's most honest.) Offstage, it's— difficult. He's fallen away from teenage bravado, in time, retreating from the posturing that had characterized male behavior in his neighborhood and staying more within his own bounds, which mostly amounts to an earnestness just as subject to insecurity and doubt as anyone else.

At best, he looks sheepish when he asks her out — a club, he says, nothing too exciting. He's wearing a similar look when they meet up outside the place (you look really nice), offering her the crook of his arm before leading her in. It's a relatively small place, lights a little dim for the sake of the dance floor that's cleared in front of the house band. There's something close about it all, tempered by the fact that there are people all around them (the kind of atmosphere that's always afforded by slow music). Frankie's not particularly chatty, per se, but he's easy when it comes to conversation, as eager to listen as he is to contribute anything of his own.

They're a couple of drinks in before they bother with getting up. There's more hesitancy in the way he touches her than in how he'd spoken, before, one hand at her waist and the other holding hers, swaying in time to the beat. It's only now that it occurs to him that it's been a while since he's really known anyone outside of the people he works with. Mary'd been his anchor into a less transient life, before, but after the divorce— well, it doesn't bear discussing just now. Jane's a sweet girl, and he likes her, for however little or much that's worth in the grand scheme of things. ]

Thanks, by the way. [ He can't quite see her face, as close as they are, but continues on, anyway. ] Uh, for comin' out with me, I mean.

starbuckth.

[lessens]

[ A club sounds fun. And — Jane doesn't tell him, because she's never had anyone to tell, so there's not any reason to — she's lonely. Not in a traditional way, she supposes, but in a way that makes her think about being physically alone. Jane has friends and she has people to see and she calls Paddy everyday, but— there's nobody to come back home to. She doesn't have a cat or a dog. She spends her time at her classes, goes to the gym, makes dinner, and comes home and reads books. It's not a bad life to have, but she misses— Something. Something gnaws inside of her when she tosses and turns before falling asleep. Jane doesn't think it's love. No — nothing as tragic as that. Life doesn't have to be about romance.

She doesn't know what it is. Only that it's— nice, to be out, and nice to talk to Frankie. She talks a little bit about her classes in criminology, though she's embarrassed to — not everybody's interested. Frankie pretends like he is, though. That's polite of him. (His hand is warm when she holds it. Is it sad, that she's missed something as simple as that?) ]

Oh, that's not a worry.

[ Her voice is quiet, as it should be; the music is nice, soothing, her gaze drifting downward. ]

Thank you for asking. I think I needed to get out of my own space, and I didn't even know it.

thtarbuckth.

[croon]

[ That gets a small smile, though the expression flickers in and out of visibility in the low lighting. He knows what she's getting at; more often than not he's in the same boat. Things aren't going bad, per se, but it's never boded well for him to spend too much time alone with his thoughts (with his regrets). ]

I think most of us don't, [ he notes, the beginnings of a laugh audible in his voice. ] I don't mind admitting it, anyway.

[ He squeezes her hand once as if in reassurance. The problem's one he's had since he was young — he's had enough time to come to terms with it. People cycle in and out of his life, which isn't one that allows for a whole lot of permanence to begin with. It's difficult, as such, keeping a handle on the kind of suffocation that comes with isolation. Tough luck, that that trait lies opposite to the profession he's chosen to pursue.

They talk about this an' that — she talks about her classes and some of it escapes him (from time to time he's reminded of the fact that he hadn't ever finished high school, and now's one of those times) but it's not like it's a wrench, listening to someone else talk about what they're invested in. People've got a way of lighting up a little, when it comes to topics they actually like. (It's a good look on her, even if she does seem embarrassed about it.) Their present conversation is in equal parts easier and more difficult, but where his manner is unassuming, he's never uncertain, either, even in the fairly deadpan way he delivers his jokes. ]

Thank god the power went out, huh?