Okay I saw the movie a few hours ago and I HAD TO. Don't judge me. It was beyond my control. This ship is awesome. AWESOME. I couldn't resist. It's nothing extraordinary though so nobody gets excited. Not that any of you would. But… You know.
The Taste Of Tequila
She eyes the bottle he's handing her with something akin to mistrust.
"I don't drink tequila."
Her voice is firm. Claire is always firm. In every aspects of her life. She is professional, detached. Some would say cold but she doesn't concern herself with those. She is efficient, ambitious and successful. She knows what she wants and she never stops at anything to get it. She likes her life structured, she keeps her agenda in handy and she follows her schedules down to the second. Claire likes order. She's responsible for the most dangerous attractions park in the world, it is only natural that she likes order.
"Too bad." he scoffs, taking back the bottle only to take one mouthful. Men like him don't bother with a glass.
Claire doesn't usually date men like him.
Owen Grady is chaos.
From the very first day, he has been chaos to her well structured life. Too attractive, too confrontational, too dangerous. The good kind of dangerous. The kind of dangerous people come to Jurassic World for : the thrill. She feels it every time their eyes meet. It's a shiver down her spine, a gut-gripping sensation that makes her purse her lips in an annoyed pout.
He has asked her out five minutes after meeting her.
It has taken ten more invitations for her to say yes.
She still doesn't know why she has accepted. She doesn't date men like Owen. She dates men who have a plan, men who make money, men who would understand when she talks figures, expansions plans and cost-effectiveness. Owen doesn't understand any of that, when she tries to explain about it he stares at her mouth with a daydreaming expression that told her he's thinking about entirely other things. She doesn't quite mind. At least, until he starts mocking her for coming up with an itinerary for their date.
She doesn't date men like him. The men she dates don't show up wearing shorts, they don't offer tequila out of the bottle and they don't talk about raptors like they are nothing but overgrown dogs.
Owen Grady is like one of those tropical hurricane.
And he is threatening to sweep her off her feet.
She is scared by his wilderness and unreceptive to his attempts at lightening the mood.
The date is a disaster of epic proportions.
He leans in to kiss her at the end of a very long evening but doesn't seem very surprised when she turns her head away at the last moment. His lips barely brush her cheek but it is enough for her to feel the spark.
Still, she isn't a tequila sort of girl – or at least, she tries to tell herself so.
She pretends she doesn't feel it.
She pretends she doesn't ache with the need to reach out and kiss him senseless.
Instead she politely thanks him but tells him there won't be any second date. She tells him they wouldn't work and that she's not attracted to him.
She doesn't think he believes her.
Yet he doesn't try to hold her back.
A few days later, she's offered a shot of tequila by her assistant and she accepts it.
Tequila tastes a lot like missed opportunities.