Here you go! : )
Review me... : )
Natalie
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Robert laughed as he refilled both of their wine glasses—sparring intellectually with Lizzie was damn fun. "So, I guess this guy's not going to show up again."
"No, I suppose not. Bastard."
"Oh come on, spending time with me hasn't been THAT bad."
She considered him for a moment before replying: "No, I guess it hasn't... but... I'm sure it's just the alcohol that's changing my mind."
He laughed wholeheartedly "Oh, you think that do you?" he was suddenly looking at her strangely—intently—as if something important were weighing on his mind.
She returned his stare steadily before responding "I do."
She knew it wasn't the alcohol. She was genuinely having a good time with Romano. This was an occurrence she hadn't before thought possible.
He was still looking at her, staring her straight in the eye—a look that she was returning just as intently. It was as though he could see into her soul, and she into his. Both were frozen in time, only for a moment, sharing together some unspoken emotion neither had previously experienced. They dared not look away; for fear that it would be lost. Until, however, Elizabeth chanced a glance at her wine. The moment was gone. Neither of them knew what to say—feeling as though it had already been said.
It was weird. It was a weird occurrence for the both of them, yet at the same time, both parties had relished it completely.
Robert cleared his throat, as a gesture of moving onward, before speaking again: "So, how was your day?" They'd been over it, but there was a deafening silence that needed to be filled.
She looked at him "It wasn't very interesting." She stated 'Until now.' Her mind finished. "Yours?"
"About the same—boring procedures, inept staff, same old, same old."
"Ah, I know that feeling."
He lifted his wine glass "Me too. However, there are two positives to the day."
She looked at him questioningly "Which are...?"
"1) I didn't have any interaction with Weaver today."
"You lucky bastard." She joked.
"Yes, yes I was." He smiled.
"And the other reason..."
"Well, the other reason is simple." He looked at her seriously "I get to be here.... With..." he trailed off "the wine." He finished as he took another sip of the substance.
She looked fazed but only for a brief second "Yes, I know—it's probably much more company than you're used to."
"Ah—slightly more, yes." He joked as a lull fell over the table.
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Wow. I realize I've been using that word a lot lately, but really, wow. I've rarely seen looks that intense. There's no way anyone could misinterpret this chemistry! It's amazing! I can hardly believe what's happening before my eyes. Whoa—I was nearly sweating from the intensity of that look.
"THAT was intense." My companion said to me as we returned to our dinner.
"Tell me about it." I said in that over exaggerated manner that can get so annoying.
"I just did."
He was always a smartass "Haha, very funny."
He smiles at me: "I try."
"A little too hard sometimes" I mutter under my breath.
"What was that?"
"I said that look was intense."
"Yeah—Uh HUH. I'm sure that's what you said."
I just laughed.
"So...how have you been?"
Ah, the ever-dreaded 'how have you been' question. "I've been...fine. How have you been?"
"Now is that normal fine, or your fine?"
"My fine. But still, it's fine."
He considered me carefully—he believed me. And that's a good thing because I was telling the truth, I had been fine—and now, I was still fine. Just a little bit more hopeful. "How have you been?" I repeated.
He starts, as though I scared him out of a reverie "Me?"
"No, I was talking to the waiter." I say, rolling my eyes.
"So sarcastic."
"Of course."
"I've been fine, too."
"Is that normal fine, or your fine?"
"Ha." He let out a short laugh "My fine is normal fine." He jokes.
"Oh—and I suppose mine isn't, then?"
"Nope."
"Oh, okay" I say skeptically.
This felt nice. To be completely honest, as I've generally felt that honesty is a key ingredient to crap (and by 'crap', I mean everything)—I hadn't done this in awhile. And by awhile, I don't mean it'd been a few weeks. It had literally been months since I'd been out on a date--....
Wait, was that what this was? I really didn't know—I couldn't say. He was just here to watch Romano and Corday, wasn't he? Not to be here with me...
Did he consider it a date?
Should I ask him?
And it was then that I remembered how much I hated dating. All of the uncertainty seemed hardly worth it in the end. But maybe, my opinion could change. Maybe it was worth it?
See, dating is horrible. Even in the uncertainty there is uncertainty. It's so utterly confusing. Was this a date?
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Elizabeth sat there listening to the tales of Robert's last surgery. It was something only surgeons could do over dinner—discuss gore, and blood, internal organs—Elizabeth found it quite stimulating, actually.
It had been so long that she'd been out with another surgeon. And, to be perfectly honest, no one else understood it. The life of a surgeon wasn't easy—late nights, early mornings, pages in the middle of personal business—no one other than another surgeon could handle it, no one else could appreciate it.
She considered Robert for a moment. She was having an amazingly good time with him, a fact that completely shocked the hell out of her. They were laughing, drinking, and having a wonderful time. So, this led her to the inevitable question...
Was this a date?
It wasn't a conventional date, she most certainly knew that, but... was it a date at all?
Sure, they had been here for a business meeting, but the third party hadn't shown up, and they were left alone—together. Did that make it a date? Was that why she was feeling so nervous? Simply because it was a date? Or, was it derived from something more?
Was she nervous not because it was a date, or it was... whatever. But, was she nervous because of the mere fact that she was sitting here with Robert Romano?
She didn't know, but at that moment, it dawned on her—she was nervous. Uh oh. She was nervous. Her facial expression changed, mirroring an expression of panic, and her palms instantly became sweaty. 'Oh bloody hell' she thought.
Robert, noticing the change, asked out of general concern "Elizabeth, are you all right?"
She looked a little stunned, before responding nervously "Oh, yes, I'm all right. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" he questioned concernedly.
"Yes, of course. I just felt it getting a bit warm in here." She lied.
He smiled. It wasn't warm in here in the slightest. But, he decided to let it go, deciding that she was, indeed, fine—in every meaning of the word.
He picked up his wine glass, and took a sip. He was having fun. He honestly never thought he'd be here. Well, not 'here' literally, but here, having dinner with Elizabeth Corday. It was amazing to him—surreal almost. He absolutely adored it.
She was laughing, he was laughing, and it was a very comfortable atmosphere. He was ecstatic that this O'Grady guy hadn't shown up. He severely doubted that he could enjoy Elizabeth's company in this manner with another guy present. In fact, he was absolutely positive that he couldn't.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. Here he was, a man. Here Elizabeth was, a woman. Here they were, together. Here they were, at a very nice restaurant. Here they were, alone. Here they were, having fun...
Was this a date?
Dear Lord in Heaven, he hoped to hell it was a date.
Did she consider it a date?
Was it a date?
And, as it occurred to him—he became nervous. His palms began to perspire, and he tapped his foot lightly, a tiny quirk he had when he became nervous. 'whoa, calm down now, buddy' he said to himself.
But, he couldn't.
He might be on a date with Elizabeth Corday!
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And so here I sat, wondering, Is this a date? And feeling a lot of what my batter was probably feeling at this very instant.
It's a shame I didn't believe in karma before. I always thought it doesn't exist.
Well, people, I have news for you. Karma exists.
It is real, my friends.
And it is an evil bitch.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---
To be continued...
You should review this—kay? (yes, I know, I've become obsessed with the dash—Just call me Emily Dickinson.) : )
AnYway.... Review this chapter, for three reasons: 1) Really, the only reason I write is to hear what y'all think, 2) I've been working hard lately (we're moving day after tomorrow), and 3) Today, I was subjected to a dreadful 6 hours of AP Economic testing, that I probably didn't get a "4" on, which I need for it to count, which means we've wasted 69 dollars... And so... I'm kind of sad...
But, reviews make me HAPPY—so review—and don't forget, I'm Emily Dickinson now.
: )
Natalie
Review me... : )
Natalie
-------------------------------------------------------------
Robert laughed as he refilled both of their wine glasses—sparring intellectually with Lizzie was damn fun. "So, I guess this guy's not going to show up again."
"No, I suppose not. Bastard."
"Oh come on, spending time with me hasn't been THAT bad."
She considered him for a moment before replying: "No, I guess it hasn't... but... I'm sure it's just the alcohol that's changing my mind."
He laughed wholeheartedly "Oh, you think that do you?" he was suddenly looking at her strangely—intently—as if something important were weighing on his mind.
She returned his stare steadily before responding "I do."
She knew it wasn't the alcohol. She was genuinely having a good time with Romano. This was an occurrence she hadn't before thought possible.
He was still looking at her, staring her straight in the eye—a look that she was returning just as intently. It was as though he could see into her soul, and she into his. Both were frozen in time, only for a moment, sharing together some unspoken emotion neither had previously experienced. They dared not look away; for fear that it would be lost. Until, however, Elizabeth chanced a glance at her wine. The moment was gone. Neither of them knew what to say—feeling as though it had already been said.
It was weird. It was a weird occurrence for the both of them, yet at the same time, both parties had relished it completely.
Robert cleared his throat, as a gesture of moving onward, before speaking again: "So, how was your day?" They'd been over it, but there was a deafening silence that needed to be filled.
She looked at him "It wasn't very interesting." She stated 'Until now.' Her mind finished. "Yours?"
"About the same—boring procedures, inept staff, same old, same old."
"Ah, I know that feeling."
He lifted his wine glass "Me too. However, there are two positives to the day."
She looked at him questioningly "Which are...?"
"1) I didn't have any interaction with Weaver today."
"You lucky bastard." She joked.
"Yes, yes I was." He smiled.
"And the other reason..."
"Well, the other reason is simple." He looked at her seriously "I get to be here.... With..." he trailed off "the wine." He finished as he took another sip of the substance.
She looked fazed but only for a brief second "Yes, I know—it's probably much more company than you're used to."
"Ah—slightly more, yes." He joked as a lull fell over the table.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Wow. I realize I've been using that word a lot lately, but really, wow. I've rarely seen looks that intense. There's no way anyone could misinterpret this chemistry! It's amazing! I can hardly believe what's happening before my eyes. Whoa—I was nearly sweating from the intensity of that look.
"THAT was intense." My companion said to me as we returned to our dinner.
"Tell me about it." I said in that over exaggerated manner that can get so annoying.
"I just did."
He was always a smartass "Haha, very funny."
He smiles at me: "I try."
"A little too hard sometimes" I mutter under my breath.
"What was that?"
"I said that look was intense."
"Yeah—Uh HUH. I'm sure that's what you said."
I just laughed.
"So...how have you been?"
Ah, the ever-dreaded 'how have you been' question. "I've been...fine. How have you been?"
"Now is that normal fine, or your fine?"
"My fine. But still, it's fine."
He considered me carefully—he believed me. And that's a good thing because I was telling the truth, I had been fine—and now, I was still fine. Just a little bit more hopeful. "How have you been?" I repeated.
He starts, as though I scared him out of a reverie "Me?"
"No, I was talking to the waiter." I say, rolling my eyes.
"So sarcastic."
"Of course."
"I've been fine, too."
"Is that normal fine, or your fine?"
"Ha." He let out a short laugh "My fine is normal fine." He jokes.
"Oh—and I suppose mine isn't, then?"
"Nope."
"Oh, okay" I say skeptically.
This felt nice. To be completely honest, as I've generally felt that honesty is a key ingredient to crap (and by 'crap', I mean everything)—I hadn't done this in awhile. And by awhile, I don't mean it'd been a few weeks. It had literally been months since I'd been out on a date--....
Wait, was that what this was? I really didn't know—I couldn't say. He was just here to watch Romano and Corday, wasn't he? Not to be here with me...
Did he consider it a date?
Should I ask him?
And it was then that I remembered how much I hated dating. All of the uncertainty seemed hardly worth it in the end. But maybe, my opinion could change. Maybe it was worth it?
See, dating is horrible. Even in the uncertainty there is uncertainty. It's so utterly confusing. Was this a date?
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Elizabeth sat there listening to the tales of Robert's last surgery. It was something only surgeons could do over dinner—discuss gore, and blood, internal organs—Elizabeth found it quite stimulating, actually.
It had been so long that she'd been out with another surgeon. And, to be perfectly honest, no one else understood it. The life of a surgeon wasn't easy—late nights, early mornings, pages in the middle of personal business—no one other than another surgeon could handle it, no one else could appreciate it.
She considered Robert for a moment. She was having an amazingly good time with him, a fact that completely shocked the hell out of her. They were laughing, drinking, and having a wonderful time. So, this led her to the inevitable question...
Was this a date?
It wasn't a conventional date, she most certainly knew that, but... was it a date at all?
Sure, they had been here for a business meeting, but the third party hadn't shown up, and they were left alone—together. Did that make it a date? Was that why she was feeling so nervous? Simply because it was a date? Or, was it derived from something more?
Was she nervous not because it was a date, or it was... whatever. But, was she nervous because of the mere fact that she was sitting here with Robert Romano?
She didn't know, but at that moment, it dawned on her—she was nervous. Uh oh. She was nervous. Her facial expression changed, mirroring an expression of panic, and her palms instantly became sweaty. 'Oh bloody hell' she thought.
Robert, noticing the change, asked out of general concern "Elizabeth, are you all right?"
She looked a little stunned, before responding nervously "Oh, yes, I'm all right. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" he questioned concernedly.
"Yes, of course. I just felt it getting a bit warm in here." She lied.
He smiled. It wasn't warm in here in the slightest. But, he decided to let it go, deciding that she was, indeed, fine—in every meaning of the word.
He picked up his wine glass, and took a sip. He was having fun. He honestly never thought he'd be here. Well, not 'here' literally, but here, having dinner with Elizabeth Corday. It was amazing to him—surreal almost. He absolutely adored it.
She was laughing, he was laughing, and it was a very comfortable atmosphere. He was ecstatic that this O'Grady guy hadn't shown up. He severely doubted that he could enjoy Elizabeth's company in this manner with another guy present. In fact, he was absolutely positive that he couldn't.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. Here he was, a man. Here Elizabeth was, a woman. Here they were, together. Here they were, at a very nice restaurant. Here they were, alone. Here they were, having fun...
Was this a date?
Dear Lord in Heaven, he hoped to hell it was a date.
Did she consider it a date?
Was it a date?
And, as it occurred to him—he became nervous. His palms began to perspire, and he tapped his foot lightly, a tiny quirk he had when he became nervous. 'whoa, calm down now, buddy' he said to himself.
But, he couldn't.
He might be on a date with Elizabeth Corday!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so here I sat, wondering, Is this a date? And feeling a lot of what my batter was probably feeling at this very instant.
It's a shame I didn't believe in karma before. I always thought it doesn't exist.
Well, people, I have news for you. Karma exists.
It is real, my friends.
And it is an evil bitch.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---
To be continued...
You should review this—kay? (yes, I know, I've become obsessed with the dash—Just call me Emily Dickinson.) : )
AnYway.... Review this chapter, for three reasons: 1) Really, the only reason I write is to hear what y'all think, 2) I've been working hard lately (we're moving day after tomorrow), and 3) Today, I was subjected to a dreadful 6 hours of AP Economic testing, that I probably didn't get a "4" on, which I need for it to count, which means we've wasted 69 dollars... And so... I'm kind of sad...
But, reviews make me HAPPY—so review—and don't forget, I'm Emily Dickinson now.
: )
Natalie