Going into stores with Nate was always a unique experience; going into bookstores was a day-long affair. Her boyfriend had an unshakeable paper fetish, and after an hour of being in the store she still hadn't grabbed the book she needed.

She was making good headway towards the front counter when Nate stopped in front of her—again—and poked at the knick knacks on a nearby display table.

"Nate—"

"What the heck is this thing?" In his hands was a clear plastic box no bigger than a few inches around; inside was a heavy-looking stone die, with numbers painted on its many faces in thick white acrylic. "It's got numbers all over it."

"It's a d-twenty," she explained, gently nudging him to keep moving.

"Oh. Weird." He placed the die box back down on the counter and then paused, still not moving, and frowned. "Wait, what?"

"It's a twenty-sided die—"

"No no no." He immediately picked the box back up and shook it at her. "You said d-twenty."

"Yeah, so?"

His eyes were getting wider by the moment, as if on the cusp of some grand conclusion. "Regular people don't call dice d-twenties. That's what this is?" He rattled the container again.

"Tons of people—"

"Elena." His voice was low as he leaned towards her. "Have you played dungeons and dragons before?"

She rolled her eyes and shoved him away. "I played a few tabletops in college—"

"Oh my god." He grabbed her by the arms. "How? You are way too attractive to play dungeons and dragons—"

She scoffed. "Nate, plenty of people play D&D. I dated a very attractive dwarven cleric back in college."

"Oh my god," he repeated. "Oh my god."

"Why are you freaking out?" He was getting somewhat loud in the store by this point, and more than one person had cast a wary glance at them.

"Because you're a giant nerd," he whispered. "I had no idea, Elena. No idea."

She rolled her eyes and waved him off, not bothering to mention his borderline neurotic obsession with history and settle the score on who was the actual nerd. "Please put the die back. We only came here for a book." A book she hadn't even managed to ask an employee about yet, and at this rate she wouldn't be asking for a while.

He shook the clear container holding the die again, hearing it clack around against the plastic. "Let's do a mini session right now," he insisted, waggling a brow at her and ignoring her insistence to get something productive dones.

"Oh really? Like what?"

"Can you have sex in dungeons and dragons?"

She let out a snort. "You're suggesting we have sex in a book store?"

He gave her a look. "No. I'm suggesting our… character people do."

"Oh, I see." She crossed her arms. "And who is your character person?"

"Uh…." His brow scrunched as he thought for a moment. "I'm a—a thief. An elf thief. Thing. That's a type of character, right?"

She laughed. "Thief is a class, yes." She tapped her lip. "Okay. I'll be a bard. Human, to make it simple. But you're supposed to assign yourself stats and backgrounds and—"

"We're both pretty great at stuff," he said with a shrug. "We can skip that for now."

She bit her lip. "Take it away, then."

"Alright, cool." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close, then waved a hand in front of them to paint a picture. "So we're in a tavern. You're sitting all alone, hungry for love—"

"Oh please—"

"Just listen," he insisted. "You're lonely and horny. I, a stunningly handsome elf, have just gotten back from a job stealing—stealing dwarf artifacts from a temple—"

"Dwarven," she corrected.

"What?"

"It's dwarven artifacts, not dwarf."

"God, that's so hot," he whispered, then continued. "So anyway, I'm pretty loaded, and on the prowl myself. I see you, gorgeous and painfully alone, and walk up to you." He shook the die in his hands and peered into the clear plastic container. "I rolled a twelve. So do we have sex now?"

She shook her head. "No, you have to say something. Introduce yourself. Flirt."

"Like, manually? I thought you just rolled a die." He shook her gently. "Plus I've already done all the flirting and introducing in real life."

She laughed. "Well, we can skip intros for now, then. So what do you say to me? A pick up line?"

He nodded with a grin, and she took the die from him. "Okay, here, I'll roll a persuasion check to see how you do." She rattled the die around and looked down at the result. "Oh. Wow."

"What?"

"You got a two."

"Is that bad?"

She grinned. "That's like a critical fail, Nate."

"Oh. Can I roll again?"

"Nope. You gotta think of a really bad pickup line."

"Hmm." He lapsed into deep thought for a silent moment, staring off into space and all too invested in their extremely casual game of bookstore dungeons and dragons. The longer she waited for him to choose his line, the more afraid she was to hear the answer.

Finally, he brushed his mouth to her ear and whispered: "if you were a booger, I'd pick you."

The hand pressed against her mouth didn't help much; she was giggling way louder than was appropriate in a quiet book store, and felt eyes on them even with her head buried into Nate's shoulder. He laughed into her hair and held her until she got control of her lungs back and wiped at her eyes to brush away tears.

"Oh my god, Nate," she said with a hiccup. "That is—so bad—"

"It's working, though, right?" He was grinning down at her, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Yes, totally," she said, a few stray giggles following her words. "Wow. That was—wow. Maybe I should teach you how to play properly. It could be fun."

"Do you dress up and everything?"

"Depends on how serious you are about it." She set the die back down on the display table. "But how about we organise dungeons and dragons after I buy my book?"

He seemed disappointed, but thankfully, thankfully, started walking again, this time straight to the counter. She let out a few more half-swallowed laughs while she followed him. Taking Nate out in public usually extended the trip three-fold, but it was nothing if not entertaining.

They were within arm's reach of the front counter when he spotted a stack of leather journals on a stand by the wall, and then it was all over. He promptly dragged her over with him, humming with excitement, but she was in too good of a mood to complain.

An hour and thirty-six minutes later, they left the store with her book and two expensive leather-bound journals that Nate did not need—and one stone twenty-sided die.